On the Run Together
by robbiepoo2341
Summary: When Clint Barton is just six years old, he decides that it's time to run away from the foster system that hasn't been good to him and go to the circus. But as it turns out, running away is harder than he thought it would be, and he runs into a mysterious woman who is also running from her own ghosts.
1. Run Away to the Circus

**Notes: Oh, hello there! As you have probably guessed, we've had yet another burst of activity creating yet another universe because we went chasing some plot bunnies, okay? See, what had happened was, CC did her 907 universe with a tiny Scott, which inspired dragonwriter, a reader of ours, to write a universe with a teenage Clint and Logan. Which prompted us to talk about our own thoughts on Clint … and we decided that we, too, think he deserves better, but we want to start even younger and set him up with K instead of Logan because … K. (Plus, we wanted dragonwriter to have her own separate thing. She's got her teenage Clint, and we have a different direction.)**

 **Anyway, we also have a universe with a teenage Noh meeting the X-Men instead of SHIELD for his introduction to Earth, which we will probably put up sometime soon… it's just that with me in the middle of an adoption process, the story of a tiny kid and an adoptive mother is really high in my thoughts, mkay?**

 **So… here it is. The 495 Universe. In all its tiny tiny tiny Hawkeye glory.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: "Run Away to the Circus"**

* * *

Clint sat up on the hill overlooking the circus with wide eyes as he took it all in.

He and Barney had always said that one day, they were going to run away and join the circus. They'd always said that. And here was the circus.

Clint stared at the big tents and the mob of people, his too-big shirt slipping over one shoulder. He didn't have anything that actually fit him, if he was honest. He hadn't had time when he ran away to grab anything more than what he was wearing. He just knew that he wasn't going to stay in that home any more.

Barney was getting older now, hard to place in homes, but Clint was still young. Six was still young. People still wanted kids like him, with a few freckles and his front tooth missing from where someone had knocked it out before it was ready to grow back in. His last foster dad had said that it was one of the kids on the playground who hit him in the mouth with a soccer ball.

It wasn't.

Barney wasn't six. Barney was old enough that he didn't have freckles. Barney was old enough that he knew every curse word in the book, and Barney had gotten them kicked out of their last home for knocking the guy's lights out.

Clint got a new home, but Barney didn't, and Clint wasn't sure who had been luckier.

It had taken Clint five days to decide that he was going to run away. The first day had been the best. After that, it had all been downhill, but when that first _crash_ of a bottle being broken and not because it had been dropped echoed in his ears, Clint's heart was pounding so hard in his ears that he'd only heard every other word shouted after him as he ran and ran and ran.

Mr. Nelson was probably looking for him, and he was going to get dragged back to that place… but maybe not if he ran away. Maybe if he could hide in the bearded lady's beard, or if he could stow away in one of the magic boxes, maybe Mr. Nelson would go somewhere else.

But now that Clint was looking at it, he was suddenly unsure.

Before, he'd always run away with Barney. And if he went with the circus now, how was Barney supposed to know where he was?

Clint heard a noise behind him and startled, scrambling down the hill as fast as he could until his foot caught underneath him and he came tumbling down the rest of the way — on the opposite side of the hill from where the circus was. Green and blue and brown and a little bit of red all rushed up in front of him, and when Clint finally rolled to a stop, he had rocks in his elbow and dirt in his eyes, but he scrambled to his feet anyway, scrubbing the dirt away from his eyes so that he could see, because if it was Mr. Nelson, or if it was someone official to get him in trouble for running away _again_ , then he needed to know about it.

But when he looked up at the top of the hill, there wasn't anyone there, and he shook his head to himself as he picked himself up.

Maybe he'd just heard nothing. His hearing still wasn't totally better anyway after his dad had screwed it up and than up and died on him.

His jeans were all scraped up now, and his elbow was pretty busted up, but he made his way back toward the circus he'd been looking at from on top of the hill. Probably safer if he was around a lot of people.

In his little boy imagination, he was _sure_ he'd heard something, at least, and since it wasn't someone in a suit or Mr. Nelson, he couldn't help but think that maybe it was one of the lions. Or an elephant! Yeah, it was probably an elephant.

Clint was back to grinning to himself as he wandered around the circus. No one tried to tell him that he wasn't supposed to be there as he peered around the tents, looking at some of the posters and the games that he didn't have any money to play. There were a few other kids around who looked like they'd been roughhousing and playing around and who didn't exactly have strict supervision, so he might have just fit in, so that was good.

But now that Clint was there, he wasn't exactly sure who he was supposed to talk to if he wanted to run away to the circus. How… how did that work, anyway? Did he just walk up to the first carnie he saw and inform them, "I'm running away to you!"

That sounded weird. It was probably not that.

Maybe he needed to find the ringmaster. That was the guy in charge of things, so maybe he would give Clint a job. He didn't know what he would do, but he would do… things? Circus things. Maybe he could learn to tame a lion.

Clint didn't know where the ringmaster would be except for at the center of the biggest tent during the main show, so that was where he went, looking at all of the posters of the different acts.

He slipped into the big tent with a bigger family — lots of rowdy blonde kids, so people didn't look twice at him — though he slipped away from them after that and sat behind a different family, close enough that people wouldn't ask him questions about who he belonged to, but not close enough that the family would actually notice him.

Plenty of people filed into the tent, filling in the seats. Another family sat close by, a few couples, some guys who looked like they were just going to get drunk… Clint scooted over to the seat on the very end of the bleachers as a lady with some popcorn sat down nearby too and tried very hard to look like he belonged with the family in front of him now that there was someone close enough to notice that he might maybe be by himself.

The show was set to start soon, so the last of the people trickled in before the music started up, and Clint was entranced as he watched all of the acts come in for a dramatic entrance to start the show.

As the trapeze act started up, Clint started to lean back, grinning through the whole show as he watched the acrobats twist and spin high above them.

The acts were transitioning when Clint noticed that the lady beside him had pushed her big bag of popcorn toward him, and he blinked at her for a moment, sneaking a peek up at her to see if she was paying attention. It looked like she was just moving it aside so she could lean forward and watch the lion taming act coming in….

He looked over his shoulders and grabbed a quick handful, popping the whole thing into his mouth at once and chewing fast so he wouldn't get caught before he grinned and went back to watching the show. He hoped he would be able to steal a few more mouthfuls like that… he hadn't thought to bring any money or any food or anything and now that he'd had a bite, his stomach was reminding him just how hungry he actually was.

But it was hard to focus _too_ much on his stomach when there was a cool show to watch. By the time the weapons master came out, Clint was really entranced, his grin widening even more as the man in the center of the ring twirled his sword.

But he was the only one impressed, apparently. "Sloppy," the woman next to him said under her breath.

Clint looked her way for a moment, his eyebrows high, but it didn't look like she was talking to anyone else. He bit his lip and turned back to the show, though now he was keeping half an eye on the lady beside him. The next time, the guy in the middle of the ring pulled out something that Clint thought looked cool, a complicated sort of maneuver with his swords. But the lady didn't look impressed at all, and she gave Clint a sort of almost knowing look. One of those, "Oh, you tried" that some of the younger kids would get at the group home.

"He's going to cut himself," the lady said, tipping her head with that same expression.

Clint blinked at her before he turned back in time to see that, even though the swordsman was moving in what looked like a fluid transition, doing a spin and sheathing his swords to move onto knives, there was a cut along his chin now that Clint knew to look for it.

He turned back to the lady, who had a little smirk, so she must have known he'd seen it too. He watched the man in the center ring toss knives at an assistant wearing bright colors — and not much of them — before he turned back to the lady beside him.

"If you don't think they're good, how come you're watching 'em?" he asked. Which… was not what he'd meant to say. Or, it was. Just not how he meant to say it. That sounded like he was telling her to go away. He frowned to himself and scrunched up his shoulders, trying to look smaller as she looked his way.

She shrugged. "Gotta sit through this one to see the next," she said. "Want some of the popcorn? I got too much."

Clint tipped his head to the side. He didn't think that was true, but he didn't really know what this lady was up to, so for now, he just nodded and took a handful of popcorn. "Which one do you wanna see?"

"The horses," she said with a little smile.

Clint nodded. "Okay," he said. "That's cool too, I guess."

"I'm a little critical of them too," she said as she leaned his way. "You've been warned."

Clint nodded. "That's alright," he said, still watching the lady carefully as the weapons master moved on and the clown act started up. Clint made a face and then took another handful of popcorn. "I would've liked more of that guy," he said. "He had a Robin Hood bow in the pictures."

"Maybe he'll come back out with it," she said. "Break up the act a little bit."

Clint nodded, still watching the lady out of the corner of his gaze as the show continued. She wasn't eating any more of her popcorn either, so he stopped too, because he didn't know what she was trying to do, and he didn't want to _owe_ her anything. Sometimes, adults did that — acting nice so that you felt like you had to earn their favors.

But when the horses came out, he did shoot her a little smile all the same. "You going to call them sloppy too?" he asked.

She gave him a little smile. "Little bit. But this is one act that has no shortcuts," she told him before she took a moment to explain how they made it look like the horses were doing it all on their own. "They probably take better care of those horses than any other animal here."

"Even more than the elephants?"

"Elephants are tough," she said, tipping her head to the side. "But if a horse hurts their feet or their legs … that's it. No more horse." She turned his way. "And … if a horse gets scared, or if they're mistreated — they always run. Not so with the elephants."

"That's why I like 'em," Clint said, drawing himself up and puffing out his chest with his chin tipped out. "Big and tough and not scared of anything."

"They're fun to ride, too," she said, nodding.

Clint's eyes went wide despite his best attempts to look cool. "You've ridden an elephant?"

"You haven't? Young man your age? Thought you'd have at least one or two elephant rides under your belt."

Clint rolled his eyes. "Not me."

"Not _yet_ then."

Clint tipped his head to the side as he considered her. "Maybe," he said. "I think I could learn to tame lions, though."

"Oh sure," she agreed. "They're big kitties deep down. You'd be great at it."

Clint shook his head at her. He still had no idea what this lady's game was, and he couldn't figure out if she _wanted_ something from him, like a sort of advance scout for the circus. But then… she wasn't out there with the rest of them, and she was critiquing them…

"Okay, but you're not in the circus... are you?" he finally asked, curiosity winning out over anything else as he peered at her closer.

"No, I'm not a fan of having that many people watching me."

"I don't mind," Clint said, looking back at the horse show with a little smile. "I could be good at it, right? I could do maybe… maybe I could walk a high wire. I'm not scared of nothing. Not heights, that's for sure."

"I think … you're young enough you could probably master all of it if you put your mind to it."

He couldn't help but grin at her. "Really?"

She nodded slowly. "I don't see any reason why you couldn't."

His grin widened a bit. "Then... yeah. I can… I can do that," he said, though he trailed off a bit as he realized he'd bit about to tell this lady he was gonna _join_ the circus, and that was definitely not a thing he should tell people if he didn't want them asking who he belonged to. He ducked his head and grabbed another handful of popcorn and pretended he was really, really interested in the finale of the show.

As soon as the people in the crowd started to disperse at the end of the show, Clint stood up on the bleachers to try and spot where the ringmaster was, but he couldn't see any of the performers when everyone was so much taller than he was, so he jumped back down into the bleachers and caught the lady watching him again.

She hadn't gone away yet, and Clint still didn't know what she wanted, so he just tipped up his chin at her and decided he'd had enough. "What're you doing?" he demanded.

"Not a thing."

"Well…" Clint scrunched his nose up at her; he hadn't been expecting that answer at all. "Well, fine," he said and tried to just slip into the crowd and try to find the ringmaster or somebody that he could talk to about running away to the circus. He didn't want to deal with the strange lady who shared her popcorn with him and seemed to be encouraging him with his circus dreams even if she wasn't actually part of the circus. She didn't seem to have a _reason_ to help him, and it was weirding him out.

He was making his way around the big tent, toward where he figured the performers would be and away from most of the crowd headed home or getting more cotton candy or beer or whatever, when he heard, clear as day, a sort of gravelly, "There you are."

He spun around to see that Mr. Nelson had finally caught up to him, and it looked like he'd found wherever it was they were selling the really cheap beer, too, because he was worse than when Clint had run away, staggering every other step and looking even madder than before.

For just a second, Clint's eyes went wide, and he darted away, around the tent, as Mr. Nelson ran after him, breathing out threats with every step on what he was going to do to Clint for making him come all the way out to get him.

Barney had always told Clint that he had to give it back hard, though, so when Mr. Nelson caught up to him, Clint bit his hand before he could really get a solid hold of him to start dragging him back to the house that wasn't actually home. That was only going to get him in more trouble, he knew, but he couldn't take it lying down or Mr. Nelson would get _worse_.

But even with as much as Clint gave it back, Mr. Nelson was much bigger than he was, and after he shook out his right hand, he grabbed Clint by the shirt with his left and then, when Clint was stuck, grabbed his arm as well. Clint flinched and closed his eyes, ready for the hit when he saw Mr. Nelson draw his hand back — but then someone stepped forward and caught his hand, and Clint stared wide-eyed at the lady who had shared her popcorn with him.

"You need to stop before you get hurt, mister," she said in a perfectly even tone that somehow sounded even more dangerous than if she had been shouting. It had Clint holding his breath, unsure whether to tell her to _get out of there_ before she got hit too or to wait and see how dangerous she was too. So, he stayed quiet, watching the two adults even as he tried, unsuccessfully, to get Mr. Nelson to let go of his arm.

Mr. Nelson narrowed his eyes at the lady and then sneered. "Stay outta this," he snapped at her. "Ain't your business."

"If you think I'm going to let you hit a kid, you're out of your damn mind," she asserted. "Back off. Sleep it off. Whatever it takes."

"Get lost," the man sneered at her. "It's not your business what I do with 'im."

She looked over to Clint and then, in a quick move, pulled Mr. Nelson's arm behind his back, yanking his hand up between his shoulder blades until it was clear something was going to break if she went any further. "Is he always this nice?" she asked Clint, still in that same even tone that sounded like trouble.

Clint looked wide-eyed between Mr. Nelson and the lady and very slowly nodded. "Uh-huh," he said, finally settling on that as the safe answer. This lady _sounded_ dangerous, but she was also a lot smaller than Mr. Nelson, and he didn't know if he'd get in trouble for taking her side when Mr. Nelson and the lady finished their pretzel impersonation. After all, Clint knew well and good that Mr. Nelson wasn't going to _stay_ stuck like that. No matter how much he deserved it.

But if the lady knew that she was smaller or that Mr. Nelson wasn't afraid to hit a woman, she didn't show any signs of it. She leaned forward until she was almost even with Mr. Nelson's shoulder to whisper, "You need to apologize to him. For everything you've done. And make it sound pretty."

"You're crazy," Mr. Nelson spit out.

"Do you really want to have your backside handed to you by a woman of my size? Really?"

Clint almost laughed at that, but he remembered not to at the last second, because he was pretty sure Mr. Nelson would be even _madder_ if he thought Clint was laughing at him.

Mr. Nelson tried to twist his way out of the hold but wasn't going anywhere. "Stay out of this, lady. It ain't your place."

"Are you… _are you trying to tell me my place?_ " she nearly hissed. "Do _you_ want me to stay out of it?" she asked Clint, twisting Mr. Nelson's arm a little harder as she did so.

Clint watched the whole thing with his eyes still wide. He really didn't know what to do, because he was already in trouble for running away, and Mr. Nelson knew where he was. He _wanted_ to tell this lady that he didn't want her to stay out of it… but he knew that Mr. Nelson would remember him speaking out and make him pay for it later.

"Go hide," she suggested.

That was the first thing that had happened that made sense to Clint, and he nodded quickly, taking off to find a cart that was selling some snacks that he could hide behind. It was all shut down for the night, and no one was there, but it had enough space that he could run in any direction if Mr. Nelson came back.

As for Mr. Nelson, as soon as Clint had started to run, he was swearing, but it wasn't until Clint was a solid distance away that it got more creative and more painful a moment before the woman let him go and stepped back from him — only to this time start to lay into him hard.

None of the carnies tried to stop it, either, especially not when the woman explained that this guy had tried to put his hands on her. One of the vendors even offered her something heavier to hit him with, but she knocked him down and out easily enough on her own.

With that taken care of, she headed down the path Clint had run and found him easily enough behind the cart, where he was watching her warily, though with a little bit of awe as well.

"He's gone now," she told him. "And he'll be in the hospital for a few days."

"Oh," Clint said, watching her carefully. "Okay."

"I'm sorry you're with such a creep."

Clint wrinkled his nose and drew himself up a bit. "I'm _not_ with him," he said. "He's _not_ my dad."

She nodded at that. "Well, good." She paused and frowned. "So. Now what?"

"I dunno," Clint said.

She looked over her shoulder, then slipped down to sit cross legged in the grass. "What do you _want_ to do?"

"I dunno," Clint said. "I guess I was gonna run away to the circus. That's what people do, right?"

"Sometimes," she said, nodding. "Sometimes they just run away."

"I can't run away to _this_ circus though," Clint pointed out. "Because I got busted, so they'll just come get me."

"Well … I've got a truck. And I was headed north. If you have nowhere else to go, maybe …"

Clint frowned at her for a moment with his eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because I don't like people picking on kids," she said. "It makes me mad."

"Okay, but he's gone now," Clint pointed out.

"For a few days," she said. "But if you don't want to run away, I won't try to talk you into it."

Clint wrinkled up his nose. "But… I do? I … I _am_ running away."

"Then let me try to keep other guys like that idiot from taking advantage." She shook her head. "There are a lot of them. And I have no patience for guys like that."

Clint tipped his head to the side and then very slowly nodded. "Okay, I guess."

"You're not the only one running away, you know," she said with her chin tipped up.

For just a moment, Clint's eyes widened even more, and then everything about the way he was standing shifted as he nodded. If she was running away, then she shouldn't have to do it alone. "Yeah, okay," he said, this time more seriously. "Yeah, we should go."


	2. Can I Pet Your Dog?

**Notes: As you've probably sussed out for yourself, this universe includes K. If you don't know K, I'd direct you to CC's 906 universe, but you can always meet her as Clint meets her too. ;) She's a** _ **delightful**_ **character who I adore to itty bitty pieces. And she's also a wonderfully protective woman who doesn't put up with nonsense, especially when it comes to kids. Perfect match, right?**

 **This train ain't stopping anytime soon, so strap in, y'all. Thanks to CC and Silz for the excitement and hype - it's gonna be amazing!**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: "Can I Pet Your Dog?"**

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Clint was almost biting his tongue in half trying to keep from asking questions of the lady from the circus as he followed her. He still wasn't entirely sure that it was a good idea to be following her in the first place, but on the other hand, she _had_ helped him get away from Mr. Nelson, and so far, she hadn't done anything horrible… and he could always run away later if he had to. He was good at running away by that point.

He also couldn't ignore the fact that this lady was running away _too_ , and that had to mean that someone was messing with her, and he couldn't let that stand, either. Nobody should mess with people who were nice, and they especially shouldn't mess with women.

They were all the way up to the little blue truck when there was clearly movement in the cab. "You're not allergic to animals are you?" the lady asked.

Clint shook his head quickly, a little smile betraying his excitement. "Whatcha got?"

"His name is Sicem," she said. "He's not much of an attack dog, unless you count licking an attack."

Clint started to laugh at that, an honest grin lighting up his face as he rushed toward the truck. "You have a _dog_?"

"Well … yeah. He's good deterrent for some jerks," she said. "And he's good to snuggle up with when it's really cold."

Clint bounced on his toes to see the dog sticking its head out the window. From what he could see, it was a fun-looking golden retriever, and the dog seemed to get more excited on seeing Clint. "Can I pet him? Ple-e-e-ease?" he asked, forgetting how wary he was when there was a _cool golden retriever_ to pet.

"Of course you can," she said before she opened the door to let the dog out. Instead of him running off to do his business, the fluffy dog bounced around Clint with his tongue hanging out — obviously excited to say hello. But once the lady gave him a little whistle, he settled right down and sat like a proper dog — though he kept scooting closer to Clint and licking his lips as he made his way over and laid his head on Clint's chest, looking up at him and wagging his tail.

"See? Vicious," she said.

Clint laughed as he rubbed the dog's ears and stuck his face in Sicem's face, only to get licked all over and start laughing some more. "He's the _best_!" he declared.

"He really is," she agreed. "Wait. Sicem—" The dog froze and glanced her way only with his eyes. "—get 'im." With that, the dog went up on his back feet, with his front paws on Clint's shoulders, and just started licking him all over his face and ears, whining as he did so. "I think he likes you."

Clint grinned as Sicem outright knocked him over with all the licking — and he didn't seem to mind in the least. "I like him too," he said, rubbing his face in Sicem's tummy when he got a chance to breathe, which only seemed to encourage the golden retriever _more_.

"If you want him to settle down," she said, reaching over to the dog and then scratching his chest. "You have to hit the secret spot. He loves his chest scratched more than anything else."

Clint grinned as he watched Sicem with his tongue lolling out and then copied her movements, scratching Sicem's chest before he looked up at her. "Is it really okay if I stick with you and Sicem?" he asked.

She watched him for a moment and then nodded her head. "You don't really have a plan right now, do you?"

Clint paused, for just a moment wondering if this lady would tell someone if he admitted it… but when Sicem started licking him again, he smiled and scratched Sicem's ears and then slowly shook his head. "I _was_ gonna join the circus," he said. "Because they let you do fun things — and I'm _not_ going back to people like Mr. Nelson."

She nodded again and then offered him her hand. "Believe it or not — I understand. You can call me K."

"I'm Clint," he said, suddenly shy as he shook her hand. He hadn't expected her to be so… nice to him. Still.

"I ran away when I was a kid too. Not as young as you, but … I get it."

Clint nodded seriously as he watched her with his teeth on his bottom lip. "So…" he said at last. "Did you have a Mr. Nelson too?"

"Worse. I had a rotten step-dad," she said, making a face. "He was _not_ a nice person. At all. He beat up my mom and sister."

Clint's eyes were wide, his lips slightly parted. "He shouldn't do that," he said sharply.

"He didn't for too long," she said. "But I had to leave anyhow."

"What about your mom and your sister? Are they coming too?"

"I haven't seen them in a very very long time," she said. "So no. I don't even know if they're still alive, to be honest."

Clint frowned but nodded slowly. "Yeah… they split up me and my brother too," he said quietly.

"Do you know where he is?" she asked. "Maybe we could find him." She whistled again to the dog, and he finally let Clint up so he could run off and do his business, leaving the two of them alone for a few minutes.

Clint tipped his head to the side as he considered it. "The last time I saw Barney, he was at that home… but he's probably run away by now. He said he would if they sent him back there," he admitted. He scrunched up his hair in one first, an old habit that he always did when he was trying to keep from thinking about something that hurt — give himself something else to do with his hands. "They said they could find me a family, because I'm still little, but he's not as little. No one wants him 'cause he's older and he fights back."

"Is he as smart as you?"

Clint nodded quickly. "Yeah! Smarter!" he said. "He taught me how to make stupid guys bleed."

"Then we'll have to figure out what happened to him," she decided. "Because a brother like that? He'll probably want to know what happened to you, too."

Clint nodded. "We were gonna run away to the circus together. That's why I found the big tent… I was gonna ask the ringmaster to join up." He paused. "D'you think Barney will do that too?"

"I think … if he does what he says he will, then all we have to do is find the right circus." She leaned forward just a little bit. "But I have to be honest with you. Most circuses aren't going to let a kid stay on if they're all good people. They could get in trouble for that."

"Oh." Clint's eyes went wide. "I didn't know that." He paused and chewed on his next thought for a moment. "D'you think they'd've given me back to Mr. Nelson?" he asked, whisper quiet.

"These guys were pretty nice. I think they'd have called _someone_. They weren't really crazy about Mr. Nelson, though. One of them offered me a brick to hit him with."

Clint tried to hide his laugh but failed entirely. "He'd have been even _uglier_ ," he said.

"Oh, he's uglier than he was before," she said with a little wink as Sicem returned to sit on Clint's foot.

Clint absently played with Sicem's ears as he considered that. "So… you must be pretty good if you beat him up, because he's pretty big," he said.

"Big isn't everything, kiddo," she said. "I beat up my stepdad before I left. And he was at least as big as Mr. Nelson."

"Wow," Clint said, his eyes wide. "I can't do that." He gestured to his own mouth, which was still a bit busted up from when Mr. Nelson had tried to shake him off biting his hand. "I just know how to bite and headbutt and, you know, be a pain."

"Then I guess you can learn a little more," she said before she gestured to the truck.

Clint was already nodding along as he climbed in. "Me and Barney — we were always saying we'd learn how to shoot guns or maybe use swords or knives or something so that we could be scarier," he said.

"I can teach you how to shoot. And a few other things," she said.

"Like what other things?" Clint asked, genuinely interested and grinning despite himself as he buckled in — and Sicem made himself comfortable taking up half of Clint's seat with him.

She smiled lightly before she started the truck up. "Well ... like some of what I did to Mr. Nelson. How to handle wild animals … hunt. Fish. Things like that."

"Like riding an elephant?" he asked. "You said they were fun to ride."

"They are. It's like sitting the wrong way on a giant couch," she said. "That rocks. But for that, we just need to find a circus with elephant rides."

Clint nodded, his enthusiasm growing with everything that K told him. He'd known that she was nice and that she could take on Mr. Nelson, but this… this sounded like an _adventure_ , and it simply wasn't something that he could turn down. "I definitely wanna try that," he breathed out.

"Then let's get away from here and find a good spot to camp, hmm?"

Clint's head came up quick, and he looked almost alarmed. "Like… with tents and stuff?"

She smiled at him and nodded. "Yeah. Are you afraid of a tent? That would be rough for a circus kid."

He stuck his chin out and shook his head. " _No_." He paused. "I just… I just never camped before, that's all. Me and Barney would sleep outside, but… we never built a fire or set up a tent or nothin'."

"Lucky for you, we have Sicem to keep you warm," K said. "And I'll look out for any trouble. And dinner over a fire is the best kind of dinner."

Clint nodded thoughtfully. "Okay," he said. "I'll just stick with Sicem so I don't, you know, catch the whole forest on fire or something."

"You won't," she promised. "I'll show you how to not do that. It's easier than they make it sound."

"What, _not_ catching things on fire?" Clint said with a crooked sort of smile. "Yeah, I guess that would be easy."

She nodded. "Yep. That. You already have the right idea."

Clint nodded, then glanced down at himself and back up to K. "Okay, but… how long does it take? Because I'm pretty… umm… I'm hungry but I _promiseI'llhelpwiththefood_ ," he blurted out quickly.

"We can grab a burger tonight if you're starving," she said. "That's good too."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Because… because that's more money than camping, right?"

"When I run short on money, I just go enter a rodeo," she said. "I have plenty of winnings on me. Don't worry about it."

"But that's _your_ money," Clint said, very sure that this couldn't be that easy — or that there was some kind of catch.

"So?" she said, frowning at him. "You can help me with Sicem. He needs more walks than I can handle alone — especially if I'm running the rodeos."

Clint let his shoulders relax as he nodded quickly. That made sense. That was something he could _do._ "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that," he said, rubbing Sicem's ears.

"Besides, I'm sure when you get bigger, if we're still travelling the country, you'll return the favor."

Clint nodded his quick agreement. "Yeah. I can help," he promised.

"I'm not worried about it," K said. "It'll even out eventually. Just relax. Whoever told you someone your age had to pull their own weight on their own? They lied."

Clint frowned. "But … it's your money and I can't just… _take_ it."

"And you're not taking it. I'm just helping keep my new friend in good shape. My new friend who can _speak_ more than Sicem." The dog echoed her sentiment with a throaty grumble and a 'boof' the made the hair near his ears move.

Clint couldn't help but grin when Sicem did that before he nodded. "Okay," he said slowly, though he wasn't entirely convinced. "I _do_ like to talk."

She smirked, and the two of them headed off, with Sicem making friendly with Clint, and perfectly content to snuggle up to the newcomer.

* * *

Clint was surprised to find that he honestly _enjoyed_ hanging out with K and Sicem. K actually seemed to laugh at his jokes, once he worked up the nerve to tell them, and really, how could he _not_ have fun with Sicem? That dog was all energy and excitement and had decided Clint was his best friend pretty much since the word go, and Clint loved it.

He was also surprised to find that camping wasn't terrible and was actually a _lot_ better than just sleeping outside under the stars. Sicem was a much more comfortable pillow, and K knew how to catch animals and make the _best_ fireside dinners — _and_ she let him try out restaurants and pizza places whenever they would stop in a new town, still looking for a circus where Barney might be.

K didn't seem to mind that he liked pizza or that he wasn't a big fan of pickles on his burger or any of the stuff that used to get him in trouble for being high-maintenance. In fact, she made it a point to _ask_ him to pick out where they'd go for dinner when she felt like eating out in a restaurant instead of having to make dinner herself. At first, he'd tried to go for cheap places, but it didn't take long to realize… she wanted him to choose what he _liked_.

It was still really weird to think about, but so far, K hadn't gotten mad at him or anything. She mostly just let him play with Sicem as much as he wanted, and when he and Sicem wore themselves out running around, she always made sure that he was comfortable curled up with Sicem before he passed out — in the flat of the truck, under the stars, wherever they were camped out for the night.

They kept their eyes peeled for any sign of another circus, but they had only been traveling for a few weeks, and the only circus they had seen was the one where K had found Clint in the first place. Clint figured maybe the circuses liked to spread out so that they weren't getting in each other's way. But it did have him wondering if they would ever _find_ Barney, since … well… K said that the circus where they'd met… they wouldn't have let Clint run away to them. And if Barney got turned down… where would he _go_?

Clint honestly didn't know the answer to that question, and it had him edgy when he thought about it, so he tried very hard not to. He'd rather play with Sicem than do that, anyway. Even if he couldn't stop wondering where his big brother was.

"There are dozens of circuses in the country," K said once they went into the next diner a few states over. "And it's warm out — circus season."

Clint nodded to himself. "D'you think we'll find him?" he asked, sitting on his hands and leaning forward, a sure sign that he was nervous. "What if he didn't run away to the circus? What if he had to run away somewhere else?"

"Well … then I'll find him some other way," K promised. "I'm pretty good at finding people. I just need the right tools."

Clint laughed and shook his head. "Finding me doesn't count, K," he said. "I'm not hard to find. I'm _loud_."

"I was lucky to find you; I don't know what you're talking about," she said before she reached over and messed up his hair. "If I have a name and even half of a starting point … I can find him."

Clint looked up to meet her gaze as he smooshed his hair back down the way he liked it. "You know… I bet you could," he said with a small smile. "You can do plenty of things that are pretty darn cool."

"And I'll have to show you how when I do it, too," she said. "But if he went with a circus, then this is the most fun way to find him. Especially if he's using a different name."

Clint had to smile and nod. "Yeah, I want to see another show. I want to ride an elephant!"

"Then take a look at the menu, and I'll check the newspaper," K offered.

Clint grinned and nodded. He was glad that K would do the newspaper stuff in any city that they went to, because he _could_ read, but he was much slower at it than she was, and he didn't like it. He wanted to be as cool as K was, and having to sound out the words wasn't _cool._

"Ooh, look at this," she said after he'd narrowed it down to three different breakfasts. "Friday night — there is a circus coming to town. 'Carson's Carnival of Travelling Wonder.' Sounds _wonderful._ You can tell because it's in the name — and they wouldn't _lie_ about that. Right?" She folded the paper over quickly to give him a raised eyebrow look to go with the horrible joke.

Clint couldn't stop the little smirk. "Oh yeah," he said, nodding seriously. "They gotta tell the truth. That's why acrobats really fly and the clowns really do all fit in one tiny car with no tricks."

She nodded seriously with her eyebrows high. "It's magic, I tell you. Magic, greasepaint, and a very large shoe-horn."

Clint had to laugh. "That's one honkin' big shoehorn," he said, grinning at his own pun.

She tipped her head. "Maybe not so big if it's midgets …"

"Okay, I gotta give you that one," he agreed, grinning at her widely. "But what if it was elephants, huh?"

"Then they're going to need something better than greasepaint."

He grinned and nodded at that. "Plus, if one of them sneezes… it's _all_ over," he agreed before he pointed at the picture of the pancakes he thought he wanted. "Can I try the strawberry syrup?"

"I don't see why not," she said.

He grinned. "Great!"

With that, the two of them traded a few very bad, very pun-filled jokes about the circus until the waitress came with their pancakes, and Clint had to grin when, to his delight, the strawberry syrup was exactly as good as he was hoping it would be. It _had_ looked really good on the menu, but sometimes the pictures weren't nearly as good as the end result.

He grinned over at K, who was eating the split breakfast with bacon — one of his favorites, too. He thought they might have really similar tastes, because she always got stuff that he liked. Which was really nice, because that meant if it turned out he had accidentally ordered something that tasted _horrible_ then he could just swap with her, because she seemed to like everything anyway.

"You gotta try that stuff next time we do a breakfast place," he told her, his eyes wide as he pointed at his pancakes. "It's really good."

"I think I might," she agreed before taking a bite out of the bacon. "You seem to really be enjoying it."

"Well, it's nice because it's not just sugar and chewy pancakes," he said. "It's not _boring_."

She leaned forward. "When we get to a spot that has a decent kitchen? I'll make you something not boring."

"We're gonna get a _house_?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Really? Like a real house with windows and stuff?"

"Probably more like a cottage ... which … I have one. We'd just need to get there before November. Stock up the kitchen really well … that kind of thing. But that's only if the circus hunt doesn't work out."

"I didn't know you had a house," he said in a breath. "I thought you just… kinda… lived in your truck…"

"Well I do, most of the time," she said. "But when I get tired of travelling, I have a cottage that's hidden away in the woods. Way up north from here."

Clint nodded thoughtfully. "I think that would be good. I don't think it would be fun to camp in a snowstorm," he said. "Not that — not that camping isn't fun!" he added quickly.

She shook her head. "It's doable in a snowstorm, but I'd much rather have the fire going with some hot cocoa." She gave him a little smile. "Besides, Sicem likes to howl at the wolves."

Clint grinned and ruffled Sicem's ears. "Sicem thinks he's a guard dog," he laughed. "Even if he's _terrible_ at being a guard dog."

"I don't know about that," she said. "He went total junkyard dog at the UPS man once. He was shaking like a leaf, but he _sounded_ like he'd tear the guy's arm off."

Clint started laughing at that. "I'm so mad I wasn't there to see it!" he said. "That sounds hilarious!"

"It would have been a lot funnier if I wasn't in the shower at the time. That might be why he got so protective," she laughed.

"Clint nodded with his eyes wide as he licked the last of the syrup off his fingers. "Oh, yeah. That's gotta be it… he had to protect you, huh? When you couldn't see."

"Right? I'm sure that's what he was thinking," she agreed, wrapping the last of the bacon up in a napkin for the dog.

Clint hopped to his feet as he followed K out — and she let him give Sicem the bacon she had set aside, smirking to herself as she watched the two of them playing with each other. Sicem was bunting Clint's hand with his nose, _sure_ that Clint was holding out... before Clint did finally give him the last piece and got almost pinned flat with doggy kisses, laughing the whole way down.

When Sicem finally let Clint up again, he grinned up at K. "So, we're camping out here until the oh-so-wonderful circus gets here, right?"

"I don't see why not," K agreed. "I'll bet I can figure out where they'll set up — so we'll just find a spot kinda nearby so we can watch them put up the tent."

"That would be pretty cool," Clint said, nodding along. "I've never seen a _big_ tent like that go up. I bet they use the elephants, like in _Dumbo_ , right?"

"If they have them, they use them," she agreed. "And if not? Then it's the horses."

"Well, I hope they have elephants so I can ride a backwards sofa," Clint grinned crookedly, then got distracted again when Sicem nuzzled at him until he got more attention — Clint really was horrible about spoiling that dog.

K nodded at that. "If they're there, we'll get you a ride," she promised, which had him grinning all over again.


	3. And Now There's Two of 'Em

**(A/N): Seriously, CC, thanks for checking K over for me. She's got such an epic mama bear side to her that is downright FUN to explore.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: And Now There's Two of 'Em**

* * *

But for as clearly excited as Clint was with the idea of riding an elephant and seeing the tent go up… once K marked out the spot where she was pretty sure the big tent would get set up, Clint couldn't help but get nervous, all anxious energy and almost bouncing on his toes as he waited to see the circus.

He wanted so badly for Barney to be there… to be setting up with the acrobats or even the lion tamers. Clint was sure Barney would get a cool job, something that would make Clint jealous when he saw it. He just… had to keep looking.

"You see him anywhere?" K asked as she handed him a s'more from the nearby campfire.

Clint bit his lip and shook his head lightly, still looking, though he gratefully took the s'more. "Maybe… maybe he didn't run away here," he said in a wavering voice.

"Hey. From what you told me, if he said he was gonna do it — then he was gonna do it. Just a matter of finding him, right? And we _will_ find him."

Clint nodded at that, though he didn't have anything to say — a sure sign that he was nervy about the whole thing as he watched the setup. He was even quiet as the elephants got to work, too focused on looking for a tiny Barton boy to really enjoy it.

K took a moment to set up her own s'more before she moved to sit much closer to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "And besides. We're going to have fun tonight either way. Right?"

Clint startled, then relaxed into the hug as he nodded quietly. "Right," he said. "Because there are elephants."

"And other things," she said. "And you can critique whoever you want."

"Well, I don't know enough about swords and stuff yet to do it like you do," he said, starting to smile a little. "You knew that guy was gonna cut himself and _I_ thought it looked like he was doing all the cool stuff right!"

"When you're big enough to swing a sword, you'll learn how to do it right."

"When will that be?"

"The way you're growing? Probably another couple weeks."

Clint flushed. He was a little embarrassed about how fast he was growing, because he kept tripping over his feet, it felt like. But at least it meant he actually looked like he was six now, and K promised him it was because he was eating more now and hitting a growth spurt, so at least there was a reason for it. "Well," he said, "maybe I can get a cool sword like in the movies."

"Or … you can get a cool sword that puts those movies to shame," she countered.

He grinned. "Yeah, that sounds good too!" He was just about to suggest that they could start small, with maybe a knife like Peter Pan had — he had a foster family that he'd actually _liked_ that had liked Disney movies, so he knew about those — when he got distracted. He thought he'd seen someone small… kid-sized… yeah, _there_. Helping to unload boxes.

He immediately straightened up and almost unconsciously found himself reaching to grab K by the sleeve. "I think… I think I see him," he breathed out, almost scared to say it out loud, in case it wasn't Barney but some other kid that had run away.

"Then we should probably think about going down there. Not now when he might get in trouble though," she said.

Clint looked wide-eyed. "Would they get mad at him for saying hi to me?"

She shrugged. "I don't know that part would make them mad — but interrupting him when he's working? Probably. Any job is like that."

"That's stupid. I'm his _brother_ ," Clint pouted.

"Yeah, but that's how jobs are," she said easily. "They pay you for your time — so the time they need you for? You need to do the job."

"I guess," Clint said, sighing out all his breath dramatically, though he was still watching the kid with the circus group, absolutely sure that it just _had_ to be Barney now. It just did. "Can we get closer?"

"You bet," she agreed, getting to her feet in a smooth move and then offering him a hand up.

He all but jumped to his feet, grinning at K as she led the way down to the circus setup. She could always move so much quieter than he could, and he didn't know how. Maybe he just thought she was quieter because he still couldn't heard that good… but she seemed pretty sneaky to other people too sometimes. He could catch them getting surprised when they would jump a little bit, and it always made him grin.

"Which one is he?" K asked when it was clear that there were a few younger people in the team unloading.

Clint looked around until he spotted his brother — proudly strutting around with his boxes of equipment and trailing after a tall man with a sword at his hip. "Right there," he said, supremely relieved to see Barney. And even better, it looked like Barney was doing _well_. And he didn't have any bruises or even a split lip!

"Let's find where it is he's going; then we'll know when he's done," she suggested.

Clint nodded, following in K's quiet footsteps as they followed Barney and the tall man he was practically shadowing. The tall man took a moment to make sure Barney knew to be _very_ careful with some of the boxes he was giving him, and Barney swore up and down that he wouldn't break anything before he headed off with the next load, toward a trailer that was set up further out from the big tent.

Clint was almost bouncing; he couldn't help it. How else was he supposed to react to seeing Barney after weeks and weeks of not knowing where he was? He knew that K had said that Barney might get in trouble, but that was the _only_ thing holding him back from rushing over to give his brother a huge hug.

It was a supreme act of willpower that kept him from ruining things until Barney was done, and then... Clint didn't wait until Barney and the tall man had finished talking, since he could see that they were headed to the big tent anyway. So that meant they were done, right?

Either way, he wasn't waiting any longer. He _couldn't_.

When it was clear that he wasn't slowing down to watch, K simply took off after him — though he was dodging between people and under things that K was taking just a bit more time to work her way past. Which only meant that he got there before she could catch up.

He didn't even hesitate to throw his arms around Barney, nearly knocking his brother over as he shouted his name — and Barney looked completely gobsmacked for his part until he caught up to what was happening and took a step back to look at Clint in obvious shock.

" _Clint_?"

Clint grinned broadly. "Hey, Barn! I _toldja_ I'd find you! I tried to run away to the circus too, but it was a different one, but I _found you_!"

Barney still looked shocked, but the tall man with him frowned over the reunion scene and put a hand on Barney's shoulder, pulling him back a slight step away from Clint. "And who is this?" he asked in what was both a question and an accusation at the same time.

Barney glanced up at the man and then nodded quickly, straightening up under his gaze. "This is my brother," he explained. "Clint, this is Jacques."

"Hi, I'm Clint," Clint said, grinning at the tall man, who frowned at him almost appraisingly.

"Mm." Jacques looked over Clint. "And you ran away as well?"

Just then, K managed to get up to the little group not long after their quick introduction — though she had clearly heard all of it, and when she came to a stop beside Clint, she was sure to rest her hands gently on his shoulders. "How much did I miss?"

Clint grinned up at her. "K, this is my brother," he said. "You know, the one I was telling you about?"

"Awesome big brother extraordinaire?" she said before she offered Barney her hand. "Nice to finally meet you."

Barney's eyebrows were high on his head. "Oh, okay," he said as he shook K's hand. "You… how did you… find my brother?" he asked, obviously confused, since Clint seemed perfectly happy with K, and that was not the usual thing for them.

"He ran away to the wrong circus," she said, making a point to turn and give Jacques a tight smile.

Jacques smirked slightly her way. "What a shame. I'm sure he would have appreciated our circus more. Barney is doing well here," he said, his own hand on Barney's shoulder.

She nodded, her head tipped slightly his way. "I'll let you know how you stack up after the show."

"Is that a promise?" Jacques asked, leaning forward with a look that Clint knew - and wasn't happy about, if the fact that he was stepping a little bit in front of K was any indication.

"Absolutely," K replied easily. "It would be a pleasure."

Jacques' smile only widened at that before he gestured with one arm. "Well then, why don't you come with us? You can sit in the front — so you can't miss the show."

"Jacques is gonna teach me to be part of the weapons show," Barney said with a grin Clint's way, leaning forward with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Then I hope he's better than the last weapons _master_ we saw, right Clint?" K said, keeping her warm tone — but somehow managing to work in a bit of the edge she had when she'd worked over Mr. Nelson.

Clint glanced up at her and stuck closer to her without even realizing it before he gave Barney a small smile. "He cut himself," he said. "K says it was the backswing."

She smiled pleasantly as she rested her hand more gently on his shoulder. "It was on the inside flower. He tried to use a sword that wasn't made for him."

Jacques nodded approvingly. "You're more than just a casual observer of swords, then," he said with that smirk still in place.

"I do okay with knives," she replied.

"Something we can discuss after the show as well," he agreed.

"She's gonna show me how to shoot when I get big too," Clint said.

Barney grinned. "That's awesome. Jacques is already showing me how to throw knives."

"Oooh, K — can I learn that?" Clint asked, spinning to face K.

"You bet," she said without missing a beat. "Your dog will bring them back for you too."

Barney's eyes went wide. "You have a dog?"

"Yep!" Clint said, grinning happily. "His name is Sicem, and he's the _best_."

Barney looked at Clint with what K recognized quickly as open jealousy before he quickly straightened up and tipped his chin up. "Well, I get to help with all the animals. Even the lions!"

"Oh, _wow_ ," Clint said, completely missing the jealousy and giving his older brother a look of pure adoration. "Can you ride the elephants?"

Barney grinned and nodded. "Yeah. We let kids ride 'em, too."

"Can I ride one, _please_?" Clint asked.

Barney glanced up at Jacques, who tipped his head slightly. "He'll have to pay like the rest of the customers."

"No problem," K said easily before she handed Clint a twenty. "Have fun."

"Thanks, K!" Clint sang out, grabbing hold of Barney's arm and all but racing off toward the elephants, laughing to himself as Barney managed to pull ahead so that he could beat him to the huge creatures and show off.

"So… that's your new foster mom?" Barney asked as he showed Clint how to get on the baby elephant that the kids were allowed to ride.

Clint paused, shaking his head for a moment, and then shrugged up his shoulders. "Sorta. She caught me running away but let me run away with her instead of to the circus. I like her a lot - you should come with us!"

"No way," Barney said, wrinkling his nose. "What about your new _dad_? I don't see _him_ around."

"Don't got one," Clint said happily. "It's just me and K and Sicem."

"Really?"

"Yep!" Clint grinned. "That's why you should come too."

Barney looked thoughtful for a long time, obviously legitimately considering the offer, before he shook his head. "Jacques said he's gonna show me how to be the best weapons master in the world."

"K can show you that stuff," Clint argued.

Barney shook his head. "I'm not gonna run out on Jacques. He let me stay here and gave me a job, and I found this place on my _own_ ," he insisted.

Clint frowned at that. "But… but I don't wanna leave without you!"

"So don't," Barney said with a shrug. "You can stay here. I bet Jacques would let you help me with my chores."

Clint frowned. He really did want to stick with his brother, but he _liked_ K. Even camping out in her truck felt like home in a way that he hadn't had since his mom died — and he _liked_ that. He didn't know if he would be able to give it up.

But with Barney looking at him all full of confidence like that, he just… didn't know how to tell him any of that.

"Yeah, maybe," he said instead, which got a huge grin out of Barney.

Clint tried not to think about it too much and instead just focus on having fun with his brother. After all, they hadn't seen each other in a long time, and Clint didn't want to fight with him, and besides, he was _riding an elephant_. So he put everything else aside and decided to have fun with it.

When the time came that Barney had to get back to help with the show, Clint took a second to grab some rock candy — for both of them — and make Barney swear up and down that he'd come find him after the show before he headed off to go find K, grinning widely and riding the high of the elephant ride and the reunion with his brother.

"Are you an elephant master now?" K asked when he came up to her, still looking like he might break his face for smiling.

"Totally," Clint said, nodding seriously. "Barney showed me all about the elephants and their names and everything. And we had rock candy and — and—" He caught himself as he took a deep breath. "And he says I should stay here with him," he blurted out, his eyes wide.

"Well … I promised I wouldn't stand in your way if you wanted to run away to the circus," K said. "But I might have to follow along for a while. Just for my own sake — not to mention Sicem. I doubt they'd let you keep a bacon-stealing dog."

Clint had to grin at that. "That's good, because… because I don't know if I wanna run away to the circus if you're not gonna be there," he added in a whisper. "Even if Barney likes it here."

"One step at a time," she said, putting her arm around his shoulders as they headed toward the big top. "We have special seating tonight. So let's see how good this guy is, hmm? I wouldn't be surprised if he tried to get you to step up and be his lovely volunteer assistant."

"That would be fun," Clint said, completely missing the look on K's face as he craned around trying to see if he could spot Barney or Jacques, but by the time they were seated, all he had seen was a place to throw away the stick to his rock candy and the directions to their seats.

They were the best seats in the house, too, and when Clint realized it — and realized that it meant Jacques had given them special arrangements — he glanced at K for a moment with a small frown. "He's just showing off, y'know," he muttered.

"I don't know," she said with an easy shrug. "We'll have to wait and see, right?"

Clint frowned a little deeper at that. "You shouldn't let him," he said. "He's just gonna try and kiss you."

K chuckled at that. "You don't know that," she said.

"Um, yeah I do," Clint said. "I know when guys do that thing…" He made his best approximation of a leering expression. "It's 'cause they wanna 'get lucky', like Barney says."

"Do you even know what that means, my darling blonde beauty?"

"Umm, I know it means it starts with kissing and then usually crying," Clint said with his nose scrunched up.

"Well. I think we'll have to have a chat about _that_ later, because that is _not_ how it's supposed to go," she said. "But … point taken."

Clint leaned forward seriously. "And no one should make you cry, K," he told her.

"You're a darling young man, Clint," she said just as seriously. "And I promise you ... that man … the last thing he'd ever be is _lucky_ with me."

"Good," he said with a nod before he sat back. "Barney likes him, but I think he's all hot air."

"We'll have to watch and see. I don't know what the order is, but usually, the last act is the best one."

Clint's eyes were wide as he nodded and scooted a little closer to K as the show really got underway — and K didn't miss the fact that unlike the last time, Clint's attention wasn't really on the acts themselves but on either glancing at her or trying to see behind the scenes to spot either Barney or Jacques if he could.

Not that he wasn't also enjoying the show, even if the animals didn't seem to want to come too close to where they were seated.

"Aww, c'mon," he muttered, leaning back with his arms crossed. "What's the point of sitting in the stupid rich person VIP stuff if the lions don't even wanna say hi?"

"Something must have them spooked," she replied in an almost curious tone. "What a shame."

Clint made a face and shook his head. "I really wanted to see the lions," he admitted in a whisper, though he got distracted again when the final act came out — and there was Jacques, "the Swordsman," clad in a bright costume and mask with his sword at the ready.

"Maybe we can try to see them after the show," K said back to him. "We might know someone who can bring us to the lions, right?"

Clint grinned. "Oh yeah! Barney will totally help us," he agreed.

"You think he's got anything worth showing off?" K teased.

"Maybe," Clint said, watching as Jacques did his fancy swordwork, though he was, admittedly, a _lot_ better than the last guy.

"I think if this one cuts himself, it would be on purpose."

"That's too bad. I wanted him to suck so he wouldn't be able to try and impress you," Clint said, then glanced up quickly. "I mean ... I mean… not that you would…"

"Takes more than a little fancy swordwork to impress me," she promised.

"Yeah," Clint agreed quickly, going back to watching the show as Jacques moved on to archery, which had Clint grinning to himself — especially when Jacques called him up to 'help'. Even if he didn't like Jacques, Clint thought Robin Hood was the best hero, and he'd always wanted to see someone shoot like that. When it was all said and done and Clint had held up some apples and stuff for him, he was almost laughing and skipping back to K, his misgivings temporarily forgotten in the pure _joy_ of getting to be part of the show.

"You could do that, you know," K said over his shoulder.

Clint beamed up at her. "You think so?" he asked. "It looks _so cool_!"

"I would be impressed if you did it. He'd have to shoot with his feet," she teased.

He giggled. "I could learn to do that too!"

"And look good doing it."

"Well, yeah, that's because I don't look like a doofus," he laughed.

"It's the blonde …"

He grinned. "Don't tell Barney that. He likes that he doesn't have blonde hair 'cause he looks more like …" He paused. "Well. He looks more like not dad," he said quietly.

"I look like my mother," she said. "Missed out on the blonde entirely."

"Well that's okay," he said consolingly. "Not everybody can look awesome as me."

"Oh, well, I can pull it off, young man," she laughed while Jacques set up his next trick. "It just turns out that life is easier if I keep my hair how it's supposed to be."

He shook his head quickly. "No! Don't change your hair. I think it's so pretty!"

"You say the sweetest things," K said as she put her arm around his shoulders again.

He grinned and leaned into her as they watched the rest of the show. "I also am full of funny things," he told her with a nod.

"You are patently hilarious," she agreed.

He grinned, clearly pleased with himself as the show wrapped up and the rest of the performers came out for the big grand finale, and then he was on his feet in a flash to pull her to hers. "C'mon. Let's see if we can find Barney. Maybe if he meets Sicem, he'll wanna stay with us!"

"I'm sure we can find him. We know where he'll be, after all."

Clint nodded, leading the way through the crowd, though they didn't entirely make it to where Barney had been unloading stuff before Jacques caught up to them, with Barney rushing to catch up too and be part of the action.

"You two seemed to be enjoying the show," he said with a smile directed entirely at K.

"We tend to enjoy ourselves wherever we go," she replied with a little smirk.

Jacques nodded as he rested a hand on her shoulder, subtly (or not so subtly) steering the group toward the outer edges of the circus. "Barney, why don't you show your brother what it is you've been doing. I'm sure even as young as he is, he can help you with some of it," he said without looking at either boy as he kept a hand on K.

"Yeah, okay," Barney said quickly, straightening up and turning toward Clint — but Clint was locked onto the two adults with his eyes narrowed and his mouth pressed into a thin line.

"No… I wanna stay with K," he said quietly.

"I'm fine, Clint," K told him. "Nothing will happen. You wanted to join the circus. You should see what it is you'd be doing if you stay."

Clint frowned for a long time, his gaze on Jacques' hand on K's shoulder. "I dunno…"

Barney leaned over his shoulder and let his voice go as low as he could and still be sure Clint heard him. "If we get the work done fast, maybe you can show me that dog."

Clint turned to face his brother and had to admit… that was a tempting offer. He shot another look toward K, who looked perfectly calm, before he slowly nodded and let Barney lead him off to show him what was what — leaving K with Jacques, who looked perfectly pleased that the boys were gone.

Jacques moved slightly so that, even with over a foot of a height difference between them, he had K more or less with his arm around her shoulders as he smiled at her easily. "A much better performance than your last, yes?" he said.

"The bar really wasn't set that high," she replied smoothly.

Jacques smirked at that and nodded sagely. "And other performances… well. Swordplay isn't my only forte," he said, leaning in with an obvious, obnoxious smile.

"Neither is fishing for compliments." K replied with a little smirk. "So what is it you _are_ good at?"

Jacques laughed. "I think you'll find that my aim is also true as my sword. Why don't I show you?" he said, steering her toward the trailer that Barney had been helping him load and unload earlier.

"You can try," she said with a little shrug. "But I don't impress easily. Fair warning."

Jacques simply responded with a little chuckle, leading her to the trailer, though he hardly waited once they were there to make a move on her, dipping his head low to try and pull her into a kiss and angling himself so that her back was to the wall.

She didn't mince any words trying to get out of it and instead simply reached up to grab a hold of his throat, putting pressure right under his Adams apple and squeezing hard. "Easy, big guy."

Jacques eyes were wide as he let his grip slacken, though he tried to play it off with the best smile he could manage with the pressure she was putting on. "You misunderstand—"

"That's not really a trick," she told him. "That's an ambush."

"You prefer a little more buildup, _petite allumeuse?_ "

She paused visibly and couldn't help but lean slightly forward at that. " _Allumeuse? T'es rien qu'un petit connard."_

Jacques stopped outright at that, his eyes wide for only a moment before they narrowed to slits. He pushed himself upright and tipped his chin up, glaring down his nose at her. "I think I'm done playing to _your_ expectations, girl," he said, grabbing her arms more forcefully this time and abandoning any attempt at playing it smooth as he shoved her back.

"What exactly do you think you're going to do, _monsieur?"_ K asked, doing her best to get her hair out of her eyes from the jostling, honestly not having expected him to manhandle her like that.

"I think I've been very _nice_ to you and the brat you brought, and you're going to be nice for me now."

She stared up at him for a moment in honest surprise, lips parted, before she let out a little nonverbal sort of noise and then shook her head and kicked out one of his knees. As soon as he shifted to try and avoid her, she moved one arm so that her fist was at his right side, near his ribs, and a second later, a bright-sounding _snikt-snakt_ rang out, leaving a single, deep hole in his side. "That isn't fatal," she said, almost at a purr. "But I can make it that way."

Jacques was still on the ground, his arms wrapped around his middle and clearly unwilling — or unable — to say anything further to K. She stepped out of the trailer, frowning deeply until she found the two Barton boys working on Barney's chores together — with Clint cheerfully following Barney around and telling him all about Sicem and his camping with K.

"Are you boys having a good time? Introduce Barney to Sicem yet?" K asked, her hands in her back pockets as she tried to rein in her temper.

Clint shook his head. "Not yet. We gotta finish cleaning up Betsy," he explained, gesturing to the elephant that he was _happily_ helping Barney take care of, right down to mucking out.

She gave him a little smile for that. "Big job," she said, watching the two of them working. It was just nice to see the boys together and obviously enjoying their time, and it was honestly helping her mood to watch them just… being _boys_.

"Well, it's gonna be nice when I got Clint to help me," Barney said. "Used to be this would take me _way_ longer!"

"This way, we got time to play," Clint said, though with a little less excitement than Barney - since he still wasn't convinced that he actually wanted to _stay_.

"If you're going to stick around here, I think you should learn how to protect yourself first," K said in a slow meter.

"Jacques is gonna teach us," Barney said with an easy grin. "He knows all about that stuff."

"Mmm." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You should know how to take down people bigger than you. He won't show you that."

Barney scrunched up his whole face in a look that made it incredibly obvious that he and Clint were related. "I guess so. 'Cause he's so big. Bigger than everyone else!" He grinned at K. "I'm gonna be just as big, bigger than Clint, 'cause he's always been so little," he added, playfully pushing his brother in the arm.

"I think he might just surprise you, Red."

Barney shook his head, one eye closed, and stuck his tongue out at her. "Nuh-uh. Little brothers are always gonna be little."

"My big sister is my height," she said with a shrug. "We might be small, but we're the same size."

Barney frowned at that. "Well… maybe it's different if you're a _girl_."

Clint shook his head. "Nuh-uh! Girls can be bigger. Remember when we had those two foster sisters who—"

"Shut up, Clint," Barney said, turning bright red.

K couldn't help but smile at the two of them. "Barton boys — heartbreakers of the Midwest. I can see it now."

Clint grinned and shook his head. "No, we're gonna go up north, remember? And see the snow and have a fire in your cabin and…" He trailed off, suddenly realizing that this wasn't the same thing as sticking with the circus, and he glanced at Barney with a frown before he fell silent.

"It's a three bedroom, if you decide to travel with us, Barney," K said. "You could have your own room if you want."

Barney glanced between Clint and K, but before he could say anything, one of the other carnies came striding up to the group of them — a thin woman who would have been pretty if she hadn't been trying so hard to be.

"What did you do to Jacques?" she all but shrieked at K when she caught up to the group of them, her eyes wide.

"Hopefully taught him to keep his hands to himself," she replied easily. "He'll be fine."

"You stabbed him!" the woman shouted, which had Barney, at least, on edge, grabbing Clint's arm to pull him away from K in a clearly protective move — though Clint was almost unconsciously trying to get _closer_ to her, obviously following the same protective instinct Barney was, but directed elsewhere.

"You _stabbed_ him?" he asked K, tipping his chin up and looking every inch like he was ready to fight her.

"I put him on the ground. I don't have a knife. Besides, he slammed me against the wall," K replied. "And one should never manhandle a lady. Regardless of how deluded you are."

Clint was nodding along seriously, but Barney looked mad. "You can't hit _Jacques_!" he said, sounding scandalized. "He's — he's—"

"No, he can't hit me," she replied patiently. "Men shouldn't raise their hands to women or kids. _Ever_."

Barney paused for a second, knowing that she was right, but still… "But you _stabbed_ him!"

"And I'm not going to scar you by saying what he was trying to do," she said. "Just know he absolutely asked for it."

"Barn…" Clint said slowly, his wide-eyed gaze on K. It was clear he wanted to take her side, but he was also _well_ aware of all the people around them — and the fact that Barney did like this Jacques guy… and he didn't want Jacques to get mad at _Barney_ too.

Barney looked between Clint and K, shaking his head slowly. "You… no," he said, backing away from K. "No, I found this circus by myself and you're ruining things!"

"I'm not sticking around," K promised.

"Well - well good," Barney spit out. "Me and Clint don't need you. I can take care of him. I _can_. And Jacques said he'd show me how to make sure I could be scarier — I don't need _your_ help!"

"Clearly," she said. "Since I'm not scary at all." She watched the two of them for a moment, then turned on her heel to go have a word with Jacques.

"K — wait!" Clint said, dashing away from Barney too quick for his brother to stop him. "Don't go!"

"I'm just going to talk to Jacques," K said over her shoulder. "I won't go without making sure you've made your choice. This won't take long."

Clint bit his lip as he watched her go, though he didn't make a rush to catch up to her this time, either. Instead, he turned toward Barney, real anger in his gaze. "What'd you do that for?" he demanded.

Barney shrugged, watching K go with a frown. "I'm gonna _be_ somebody here, Clint. Not like the nobodies we were in that home, y'know? People will be scared of _me_ , not the other way 'round."

"But he hit K!"

Barney nodded slowly, watching Clint with one eye closed. "Yeah…"

"C'mon, Barney," Clint pleaded. "We _ran away_ from people like that. You can't just stay here just 'cause he's got swords. Or even elephants!"

Barney glared Clint's way. "Oh, grow up," he said. "There's no such thing as good guys, not anybody that cares about _us_ , anyway." He shook his head. "Your _new mom_ stabs people. Not so good, right? At least mine is gonna make me stronger!"

Clint shook his head, trying to explain to his brother what he _knew_ , that it wasn't the same at _all_ , but Barney didn't seem to want to listen.

"Are you coming or what?" Barney demanded when Clint seemed unable to get it in gear.

Clint bit his lip and then shook his head. "I… I wanna stay with K," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. He wanted _so badly_ for Barney to go with him, but Barney… Barney was older, and he never listened when he got an idea in his head, no matter what Clint did.

He was a lot like their dad that way — not that Clint would _ever_ tell him that.

* * *

As K made her way to where Jacques was, of course, milking his injury, she wasn't surprised at all to see a couple roustabouts trying to block her way. "Move it or limp for the rest of your life," she said as she stalked toward them. "I'm gonna have a word with your boss."

"Listen, lady, I don't care what's going on here — you can't just stab one of ours and walk away from it," said the tallest man there, glaring down at her.

She held her arms out, letting her flannel shirt open in the breeze. "I don't have a knife on me. But if you think you can stop me? Go ahead and try. Either way, I'm gonna have a word with him."

"Whatdya wanna talk to him for anyhow?" asked one of the acrobats.

"Not your business," she replied.

The ringmaster couldn't help but chuckle as he sized her up. "Jacques must be slipping. You're, what, five feet?"

"Five-two," she said. "Terrifying, I'm sure."

He chuckled and tipped his head to the other carnies. "He made his bed," he told the others before he turned to K. "But if you kill my weapons master, I won't stop my men from responding in kind."

"If little me killed your weapons master — who is surrounded by weapons and is by definition supposed to be a master — then I think I'd be doing you a favor."

He smirked. "Be brief," he said, tipping his head to the trailer, though the carnies didn't leave, clearly making sure that K knew they _would_ come after her if she overstepped.

Of course, as soon as Jacques saw that K had returned, he glared and reached for his sword, though he was still half doubled over. "Get out."

"Take whatever weapons you need to protect yourself, but we're having a talk, _lâche_ ," K said.

Jacques paused, but he still had his hand on his sword. "What do you want?"

She looked over her shoulder at the group of circus folk and stalked forward a little slower, holding his gaze with every step. "Just a warning. Now that I know where you are — and where Barney is — I will be checking in. Watching. If I think for one second that you've harmed one hair on his head, I'll teach you what those little pig stickers are actually made for."

Jacques sneered at that. "Is that what this is? The _boy_? What's he to you?"

"A boy," she said simply. "That's all he needs to be."

"And if I train him, he is more than that to me," Jacques said.

"By all means, train him if that's what he wants — and if you choose," K replied. "But you'll treat him with more respect than you showed me — or I'll come back and give you a more thorough lesson."

Jacques shook his head. "He's just a boy to you — why go to such lengths for him?"

"Why does it bother you?" K asked as she kept walking closer. "That someone might care about him?"

"Kids who run away to the circus are not children who have anyone who _cares_ ," Jacques said. "So why do you? What's so different about this one?"

"This one? Maybe nothing. If it makes you feel better, then I extend my concern to the other kids here too."

Jacques chuckled lightly at that. "Fine," he said. "You can give them your concern — and I will give them my instruction. Now get out of my trailer."

She smirked and held her hand out to shake. "On your word. Whatever that's worth."

Jacques sneered at her once more, but he took her extended hand all the same. "Now leave my circus," he said.

"If you think my threat is empty, _t'es complètement débile_ ," K said in her very best Parisian accent. "See you in a few weeks." Again, she tipped her head his way and turned on her heel to walk out with her head high as she headed over to find Clint again.

"Hey, blondie," K said when she found him not too far away, sitting with his chin on his knees and watching the gathered crowd of roustabouts and performers part for her to pass by. "I know I said it was up to you — and it still is. But I really don't think you want to be around this guy."

Clint let out a breath and nodded slowly, glancing up at K with shining eyes, and she could smell the salt on his cheeks. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I don't… I don't want to stay here."

"I promised Jacques that I'd be back in a couple weeks though," she told him with a wink. "Stole their schedule. So you know…. You can see your brother anyhow."

Clint nodded at that and then rushed over, surprising K when he simply attached to her in a hug. He had never done that before; he'd always kept distance between them. But it was obvious that he didn't want to leave Barney, even if it was for a little while… and even if he knew he wasn't going to stick around with the circus and _Jacques,_ that decision had left him hurting.

"Hey, you know what this means, don't you?" she said quietly as she wrapped him up in a hug. "I never do this … but, _you were right_." The last part came out quieter, almost whispered into his hair.

Clint picked his head up to look at her openly. "I was?"

She nodded her head. "You were. He was definitely _expecting_ to get lucky."

Clint nodded seriously. "I knew it," he whispered.

"Yeah, don't get too used to it," she laughed.

"But _you_ said I'm smart," Clint said, rubbing his nose with his sleeve and giving her a weak sort of smile. "So I gotta be right, right?"

"You are," she said. "This time — _this time_ — you were right. But I was right too. That wasn't happening."

"I'm glad," Clint said, rubbing his eyes and trying to stand up a little straighter. "I mean… no one should make you cry, K. That's not okay."

"Sweetheart, no one will make me cry like that," she said. "I told you — that's not really how it works. It's not supposed to anyhow. Kisses are how it starts — but it should be all _good._ "

Clint frowned up at her, obviously weighing it out, before he shrugged. "Okay," he said slowly.

"It's supposed to be something for when you're in _love,_ " she said, though she clearly wasn't going to explain much further than that. "I'll tell you when you're older. God, I can't believe this is something to discuss."

Clint frowned at her. "You don't gotta tell me if you don't like it," he promised.

"No, I just … need to figure out how to explain this and not scar you for life," she said with a chuckle. "There are stages of information here, kiddo."

Clint drew his shoulders up. "I'm not so little," he said.

"No, you're not, but it's ... " She let out a sigh. "You know. Thirty, forty years ago it was almost exclusively for people that were _married._ "

Clint shrugged. "That's okay. I don't _really_ wanna know," he said.

"Small miracles," she said flatly. "Want to grab a pizza and get a little fresh air? Or do you want to see your brother first?"

Clint seemed to try to make himself a little smaller. "He's already gone," he said quietly. "He went to go find Jacques."

She took a moment to crouch down a little so they were eye to eye and put both hands on his shoulders. "I came to a little agreement with Jacques," she said, leveling with him. "That's why we're coming back. To make sure he doesn't hurt your brother — or, because Jacques is a _magnifique idiot_ — any of the other kids either."

Clint looked openly relieved at that, biting his lip before he darted forward again and wrapped his arms around her neck in a hug, though this time, K could tell it was because he was trying to hide the fact that he was crying, because she could smell it — and feel the wet spot on her shoulder.

"He might not want it now," K said gently, "but I'm gonna watch out for him too. It's what little brothers and sisters do, right?"

Clint nodded with a little, shy smile. "Even when their big brothers and sisters are being _stubborn_."

"Especially when their big brothers and sisters are being stubborn. That's usually when you know they're really getting ready to screw up."

Clint let out a little laugh and an 'uh-huh.' "I just don't get how come he thinks Jacques is so special when he's just like all the other jerks," he muttered. "It's so stupid."

"It's because Jacques is willing to show him things," K said. "But … I'll show you things too. And we can see who gets the better teacher."

"And we'll make sure he doesn't get hit, right?"

"That's the plan," she agreed. "And if he _does_ get hit? Then I'll break Jacques."

"Good," Clint said before he straightened up a little and scrubbed his hands over his eyes and tried to give her a little smile. "So… um… pizza?"

"Yes. Pizza by the campfire," she agreed.

…..

Translations from French:

 _petite allumeuse_ \- little tease

" _Allumeuse? T'es rien qu'un petit connard." -_ Tease? You're just a little asshole

 _t'es complètement débile -_ you are completely stupid

 _Lâche_ \- coward


	4. Sticks and Stones and Knives and Fists

**Notes: Why, yes, this story is running away with me. Why do you ask?**

 **Silz, I laughed at your review… customer service is the worst. Hang in there, my darling! And yeah, poor Clint knows too much but he's so funny in the way he describes those things lol.**

 **And griezz… honey, Swordsman had it coming. He's the absolutely worst (as you will see) in the Hawkeye circle of influence so I have no sympathy for him. Or anyone who gets that aggressive that fast with a woman. So… I'm with K. But you can guarantee that we won't keep Clint from being a Hawkeye. He's just taking a different path to get there, y'know?**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Sticks and Stones and Knives and Fists**

* * *

Clint and K drove for a while until they found a good place to stay, several cities away from where they had found Barney's circus, though it was on the list of tour stops. After all, K fully intended to follow through on her threat — and to make sure Jacques stayed on his best behavior.

Clint was grateful for that, too, because even if Barney thought that he was too old for foster families now — even if Clint thought Barney was full of it and was still small enough that _someone_ would want him like maybe K or someone like her — Clint knew that his brother really did need someone to look out for him, and if it couldn't be Clint, then he was glad it was K.

But because they would be staying in the city for a little while, that meant that they actually were going to stay put… and that meant they didn't have to camp out. Instead, K took the opportunity once they got into town to do a little nosing around until she found a little cottage that they could rent for a few weeks, including the weeks that the circus would be in town.

"So, alright," K said as they settled into the cottage. "I know I said campfire food was the best, but I really am in need of something a little … slower."

"Like… chewy stuff that takes forever to eat?" Clint said, scrunching up his nose. "Like _celery_? Eww."

"Like … maybe some stew. Or a steak that isn't charcoal kissed. And in the morning? Swedish pancakes."

Clint's eyes were wide. "Oh wow," he said. "That… that sounds _really good_."

"It is," she promised. "Though I doubt we'll find the berries I want. Strawberries and raspberries will have to do."

"Well, what kinda berries do you want? Maybe I can find 'em!" Clint offered.

"Lingonberries," she said. "They grow wild in the forests of Sweden." She shook her head with a little laugh. "Is there anything that you've been missing?"

Clint chewed on his lower lip as he tried to think of it. He'd eaten whatever his foster parents had put in front of him, so he hadn't really _thought_ about it before, but… "Well," he said slowly. "Mom… she used to make baked potatoes with _everything_ on them." He smiled softly. "We'd make it a game — how many things can you stack on the potatoes before they fall over?"

"That sounds fun," she said, nodding. "We'll make a list and get some things and try that out."

Clint grinned at that. "Mom used to put _Ranch dressing_ on hers. Instead of sour cream? Isn't that silly?"

"Everyone has different tastes," K replied diplomatically. "If she liked it, it's not silly."

Clint nodded at that. "And she always made sure she made chili, because Dad…" He paused, and the smile dropped. "Well, he liked it _just so_."

"Alright. What did you like, though?"

"I don't really like chili on my potatoes," he told her in a wide-eyed whisper. "I like cheese. And — and sour cream!"

"I like cheese and bacon," she said with a smirk.

"So does Barney," he told her, grinning.

"Good taste on that kid," she laughed. "So … tonight? Do you want to do the potatoes, then?"

"Can we please?" Clint asked.

"Absolutely," K agreed. "Let's go get our shopping done, and then we can start cooking. Sicem will wait for us here. I think he needed a break from camping too." She tipped her head to where the dog was stretched out on his back — all four feet limp in the air and his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth as he slept.

Clint giggled. "He's a funny dog," he told K.

"Total goofball," she agreed.

"That's probably why he likes me, I think," Clint said. "My mom used to call me that _all_ that time." He hopped to his feet and went to go pull on his shoes so they could go shopping. "That and 'goober' — which is _not_ my name," he added.

"I don't know … goober suits you…"

Clint rolled his eyes at her. "Does not."

She smiled at him and ruffled his hair on the way out the door, and when they got to the store, she let him pick out plenty of snacks and additions to her shopping list, joking around the whole time. They made decent time, and when they returned, Sicem barely picked up his head before going right back to sleep.

Clint giggled when he saw it. "You were right, K. Sicem's _real_ tired."

"He's been working hard, hardly working," she agreed as she put the groceries away and started to pull out what they'd need to make their dinner.

She was just starting to chop up some green onions when there was a loud backfire from the road — close enough that she startled slightly and managed to cut her finger. "Crap," she almost hissed out.

Clint rushed over to her with a concerned look on his face, especially when he saw that it was a pretty deep cut. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Don't worry about it," she said quietly, frowning at her hand. "It'll stop in a second."

"Nuh-uh," he said, his eyes wide. "Nuh-uh. You got it _deep_."

She sighed, though she didn't explain much as she peeked at her hand. "No … it's fine."

Clint peeked over her shoulder and frowned deeply when he saw that her hand looked, well… fine. "But… but Mom needed _stitches_ …" he whispered.

"I just have to clean it up," K said, tipping her chin at the sink. "Wanna turn the water on so I don't make a bigger mess?" When he rushed over to do just that, K simply started to wash her hands and didn't bother trying to hide the fact that there was no cut anymore from him. "You know how … sometimes they talk about people that can do things they shouldn't be able to?"

Clint frowned as he looked at her hand. "Um… like… like when kids run away to the circus even if it's against the rules?"

She smiled and shook her head at him. "I mean … like there are some people that can move things with their minds, or they can talk to animals … weird things like that."

"Oh, yeah! Like the Avengers!" Clint said, nodding seriously.

"That's … a pretty heroic example, but yes." She held up her hand for him to look at. "I heal."

Clint reached out to take her hand in both of his so that he could examine it a little closer, turning it over as K let him manipulate it how he needed to. "...How'd you do that?" he asked.

"I don't know. It just happens on its own," she admitted. "Since I was about your brother's age."

Clint let out a low whistle. "I wish I did that," he said.

"Yeah," she breathed out. "A lot of people do."

"Well, yeah, because then nobody could hurt me," Clint said. "And I could stop it if — if it hurt someone else," he added, glancing at her openly.

She shook her head slowly. "No, it still hurts," she said. "It just heals fast."

"Oh." He frowned. "I dunno if I like that."

"Still have to try not to get hurt," she said. "No one likes getting cut."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, 'cause then you have to go to the doctor," he said.

She smiled and again shook her head. "Well that's one thing I don't have to do."

"You're lucky. I don't like doctors," Clint said, wrinkling his nose and thinking of the last time he had been at the hospital and the doctor had to write everything down for him so he could read it 'cause he couldn't hear it.

"I am not overly fond of doctors either," K said. "They make me nervous."

"Yeah," he said, nodding seriously. "And their handwriting is _really_ hard to read." He shrugged his shoulders almost up to his ears, suddenly embarrassed remembering it. He'd been even _younger_ then, and Barney'd had to help him sound it out because it didn't look like the words on flashcards at preschool and Kindergarten.

"It is. They're kind of horrible most of the time," K agreed. "So we should be careful so we can avoid them. Right?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah, for sure," he promised. "No doctors for me! I don't even like the grape flavor lollipops, and that's _always_ what they give me because Barney tells 'em my favorite color is purple before I can say I don't wanna _eat_ purple."

"As far as lollipops go, I always liked cherry or strawberry."

"Oh yeah," Clint said. "And I like green apple. I _love_ sour stuff!"

"Lemon is good too," she said, diverting him back to prepping for dinner now that the injury was behind them and he didn't seem to be bothered by her healing quickly.

Clint nodded. "One time, Barney dared me to _eat_ a lemon. And my whole face felt like it was gonna get sucked up into the sky!" he told her.

"Put a pucker on your sucker, hmm?"

He laughed outright at that. "Yeah, exactly!"

* * *

"Alright. Tonight's the night. You ready to head out?" K asked. "Ought to get there early just to make sure he's not banged up." She was taking her time brushing her hair out and smoothing out the shirt over her stomach before she grabbed a light plaid shirt to go over it.

Clint nodded seriously. "How come you're so good at this?" he asked. "At knowing how to deal with people like Jacques? I never got so good at anything but running away and fighting back when they caught up."

"Because I've had to deal with a lot of jerks," she replied. "I'm small enough people think they can push me around. I don't … _do_ that very well. Besides, they never see it coming when I hit them."

"Yeah, people like that are stupid," Clint said seriously. He finished lacing up his shoes and then glanced up at K. "What are we gonna do if he's real hurt?" he asked quietly.

"I'll kick the living crap out of Jacques and anyone in my way, then we'll get him out and get him taken care of," K said. "I'll pay for it. Don't worry."

Clint nodded at that, looking relieved. "He better not be hurt," he said, then bit his lip. "I was just thinking… I'm too little to hit Jacques too, and I wanna help."

"Well my darling little blond, you simply need what we small people call an equalizer," she said with a smirk before she put on a quick swipe of lipstick. "Broomhandle. Tent spike. Crowbar. If it fits in your hands and you can pick it up and swing it — don't be afraid to use it."

Clint nodded. "Barney says you gotta make it stick," he agreed. "He says you gotta use anything you got, even if it's your teeth."

She couldn't help but smile crookedly at that. "True story. I have nothing against biting either."

"That's 'cause it works," Clint said, ruffling Sicem's ears as they headed for the truck.

"And my teeth are sharp. How about yours? Pearly white bite of doom? Check."

Clint grinned sheepishly. "Actually, mine's kinda wiggly," he said, showing her one of the teeth that had started to loosen up a little bit.

"Oh, well you want to bite a caramel apple. Not a French loser," K said.

"Probably tastes a zillion times better," Clint agreed, pulling a face.

" _Absolument._ "

Clint laughed. "How come you know French, anyway?" he asked.

"I lived in Paris for a while," she replied.

"Oh _wow_." Clint skipped a step and then rushed to catch up again. "How come you're so _cool_ , K?"

"How come you're so cute?" she asked, scrunching up her nose.

"I dunno; I just am, I guess," he said with a shrug.

She gestured grandly at that. "There it is."

Clint giggled and shook his head at her. "You're hilarious."

The two of them hopped into the truck and made their way to the festival grounds, where the circus was finishing setting up the big top. "We even know what the trailer looks like this time," K said as they headed down the hill toward the busy crowd.

Clint nodded at that, though he was scanning the crowd looking for Barney rather than looking out for Jacques — and K could see the exact moment that he spotted Barney, too, because his whole face lit up as he rushed over to go say hello.

Barney had his back turned to the two of them while he was working, but he turned just in time to see Clint rushing toward him before Clint tackled him to the ground. "Woah! Hey, I thought you ran off into the sunset!" he teased, grinning at his little brother as he quickly reversed their positions to get Clint in a headlock to ruffle his hair.

"We _said_ we'd come back," Clint said, trying unsuccessfully to pull his head out until he finally tickled Barney's side and got him to let go, still grinning as he straightened up until he saw that Barney had a black eye. "Um. Barn…"

Barney shrugged. "It's fine," he said quickly. "Really, it is. I just screwed up with the swords, and you can't do that. They're dangerous, and you have to _respect_ them."

Clint frowned at that. "That doesn't sound right…"

"What happened?" K asked when she caught up to them, frowning at the mark Barney had that was already turning green and blue from how old it was.

Barney straightened up when he saw K and quickly shook his head. "Nothin'," he lied quickly.

She tipped her head at him, her chin down. "That's a lie. And a terrible one at that."

"I just… I messed up with the swords, and you can't do that or you hurt the swords or yourself…"

"If you messed up with the swords, then you would have a cut, not a black eye," she pointed out.

"I did, though," Barney muttered sullenly.

She softened her expression and shook her head. "Everyone makes mistakes." She turned to Clint and handed him some cash. "If he can get free, the two of you should probably find some caramel apples."

"Yeah, you should help me get my tooth out!" Clint told Barney, seizing his arm. "You can eat some apples, right?"

"Well…" Barney glanced in the direction of Jacques' trailer and then nodded. "Yeah, I don't gotta be at training until after dark."

"Great!" Clint grabbed Barney's arm. "This'll be fun."

K gave both boys a little smile. "How are you for cash, Barney?"

"Oh, well." Barney looked embarrassed. "I got enough, ma'am."

"Can I treat you to an apple?"

"I… don't got nothing to pay you back," he said, looking even more embarrassed.

"That's why it's called a treat," she said. "Maybe one day you'll do me a favor in return. Popcorn or something."

Clint grinned and nudged Barney's arm. "K is weird. She just likes to give you stuff if she likes you."

"Okay," Barney said, though he was watching K with a funny sort of frown all the same before Clint started to tell him about how she made baked potatoes and he should come over and eat some later.

She handed him a ten and gave him a little smile. "Besides, I heard it's your birthday pretty soon. Consider it an early present if you need to put a title on it."

"You told her about me?" Barney asked Clint.

"Well, yeah. She's met you and she likes you," Clint said with a shrug before he seized Barney's hand. "Come on! We gotta get some apples and hang out before you gotta go to work again!"

Barney shot one more sort of suspicious glance K's way before he let his brother drag him off to adventures.

K watched them go with a pleasant smile in place that seemed to evaporate as soon as they were well out of sight. And as soon as she knew they were off being _kids,_ she let out a long, slow breath and headed for Jacques' trailer. She didn't knock when she got there, though, and instead, she simply opened the door and let herself inside.

She turned to see what he was doing in there before she simply started to head deeper, silently moving until she found him stretched out with one hand over his eyes, though he wasn't asleep. She took stock of what was easily within reach for him as she kept creeping silently closer.

It was clear he had no idea she was there, and though she thought about screwing with him, the fact remained that Barney had taken a hit. And she wasn't happy about it. She made a quick move forward and grabbed him by the front of his shirt, then yanked him off the couch to twist one arm over his head, cranking on him hard. "You hit the kid."

It was obvious that Jacques had no idea what had hit him, but that introduction tipped him off and had him glaring. "What the h- you again?"

"I told you I'd be back to check on him," she said in a perfectly pleasant tone. "Now … you'll need to make it up to him or I might accidentally detach a few crucial tendons." She made her point by gently running a finger over a section of muscle in his shoulder that was stretched tight.

Jacques positively froze, and she could almost see the decision before he made it. " _Fine_ ," he spit out. "Fine. Day after the big show he can just… do whatever the hell he wants. Happy?"

"I'm sure we're both surprised, but yes. That makes me very happy." She let go of his arm and stepped back, watching as he got up.

Jacques rolled his shoulder a few times but didn't drop his glare her way. "You got some kinda vendetta, woman."

"No," she said, shaking her head lightly. "Should I?"

He shook his head at her. "Save that up for some other man. I got better things to do than deal with a crazy woman."

"Yeah, I saw the better things you were up to before I showed up. Very. Busy." She turned to leave, and paused at the door. "You know … it appears as though we're going to be putting up with each other for a while. This can be more pleasant. Behave and I might even buy you a drink."

"I doubt we'll be that friendly," Jacques said dismissively as he sat back down.

"That's all on you, my froggy friend."

At that, Jacques curled his lip back. "Have a good time at the festival, lady. Don't let the door hit you on the way out," he said as he put his hands behind his head pointedly.

She couldn't help but smile to herself as she left, and she did her level best to keep from laughing, though it wasn't quite a successful endeavor. So, when she caught up to the boys sitting on one of the hay bales and swinging their feet while they ate their apples, Clint couldn't help but grin as he waved her over.

"I was just telling Barney about your house!" he said. "I said he should come see it if he can!"

"Oh yeah, he's welcome if he wants to go," K said before she looked over to Barney. "That's an open offer. And I wasn't kidding before. You can have your own room if you visit."

"Well…" Barney glanced toward the rest of the circus and then shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe when we're not real busy. But right now, we're real slammed with lots of cities to go to and stuff."

She nodded. "I know you're touring, and I don't want to screw that up for you," she said. "But the circus shuts down for the winter, so if you want a place to hang out for a while ... you can give it a shot."

"Please?" Clint said, tugging on Barney's sleeve. "Please? You can play with Sicem and me, and we can even have a _Christmas tree_."

"Really?"

"Absolutely," K agreed before she turned her head to watch the crowd milling around.

"Wow. I don't think we've had a Christmas tree since Mom and Dad died," Barney said, and Clint nodded along.

"Yeah, but K says she likes to build a big fire and watch the snow, and it sounds like a _postcard_ for Christmas," he breathed out, clearly excited about the prospect.

"Are you sure about this?" Barney asked K, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Why not?" she said, frowning right back at him.

"Well… we're not _your_ kids," Barney said.

"Like that makes a difference?" she said with a little scoff.

"Well, I guess if you ain't got your own, but it _does_ ," Barney muttered.

"Listen, Barney," K said, dropping her voice low. "I was a runaway kid too. I get it."

Barney tipped his head to the side as he considered her for a long time before he broke into a smile at last. "Okay," he said. "Okay. But just for the winter, and then I wanna go back to the circus, got it?"

"I'll make sure Jacques gives me a solid day to meet up and where — and we'll show up early for you just in case."

"That way he can't be stupid," Clint agreed, getting a little snort out of Barney.

"Yeah, okay. It's a deal."


	5. Barton Boys Birthday Bashery

**Chapter 5: Barton Boys Birthday Bashery**

On the last night that the circus was in town, most of the carnies spent their time out on the town of whatever place they were staying. Drinking, carousing, having a good time… but for Barney, that meant getting picked up by a pickup truck with a giant, excited dog only too happy to have someone else to play with as soon as the door opened.

For a second, it was a tossup as to who was going to get to Barney first between Clint and Sicem, but Sicem was faster and started bounding around Barney, only encouraged when Clint threw his arms around Barney to hug him excitedly.

"Come on!" he said, grabbing Barney's arm. "This is gonna be so fun!"

"There's plenty of hot water too, so if you need a shower — you can take your time," K told him, smiling at him as he followed Clint to the truth.

Barney raised an eyebrow and leaned his head down to sniff his shirt, his nose scrunched up. "Do I smell like lions or something?"

"Not really," she said. "But I know how hard it is to get hot water when you're travelling like that."

"K thinks of everything," Clint said, obviously pleased — and proud.

Barney looked between the two of them and then scrunched his shoulders up. "Yeah, I guess that would be good," he said.

"Oh, good, 'cause you shouldn't smell like lion poop on your _birthday_ weekend," Clint said, pushing Barney in the shoulder with a teasing smile.

"What do you boys feel like for dinner?" K asked. "Clint has picked out a few options … we'll go from there."

Barney's eyebrows shot up as he looked between the two of them. "Umm…"

"I told K how you like burgers, but you can get 'em anywhere so I also said that you really liked that one time we got egg rolls at that Asian place — do you remember?" Clint said, almost all in one breath, obviously desperate for Barney to have a good time during his visit — though whether that was because it was his brother's birthday (more or less — it was close enough, anyway) or because he wanted Barney to like K, it was a tossup.

"I did like those egg rolls," Barney agreed with a little smile.

"Chinese then?" K asked.

Barney nodded hesitantly, checking his pockets for the money he had — since he never _left_ it anywhere. Not when it was the first time he'd actually had money of his own. "Yeah. Yeah, okay," he said.

"You don't gotta pay," Clint whispered to him. "It's for your birthday."

"It's too bad you're going to miss the fun next week," K said as they turned down the road toward town.

"What fun?" Barney had to ask, his eyebrows shooting up.

"There's a rodeo coming through, and I know one of the guys on the circuit. I'm going to borrow a horse and win a few classes," she said in an almost conversational tone. "He owes me a favor, and I trained his horse. So."

"Woah," Barney said, looking to Clint for confirmation and looking even more impressed when Clint simply nodded importantly, looking totally tickled with how _cool_ his new guardian was.

"If all goes well, maybe I can give you a belt buckle," K said with a smirk.

"Like one of those really big ones that make you look like a cowboy?" Clint asked. "Can I get one? D'you think I could get one riding like you maybe if I learn how?"

She nodded with a smirk. "I think the only one you're old enough to go for right now is the mutton busting."

"What's _that_?" Barney asked. "It sounds… weird."

K smiled their way as she drove. "You ride a sheep. They have their wool on so the kids grab on with both hands and legs and try to stay on while the sheep goes nuts. There aren't usually many bucks, but they turn on a dime."

"I could do that!" Clint said, nodding seriously. "I'm stronger than I look. I could hang on _tight_ ; I know I could!"

"Sounds good to me," she said. "Though you'd be mostly with my friend for that, since it's just before the bronc riding — and that's one of my classes."

"Oh." Clint bit his lip. "I dunno… I wanna stick with you." When Barney shot him a look, he straightened up. "But I can do it. I can do it _by myself_. I can!"

"There's a special box they have for the kids of the cowboys," K said. "So you don't have anyone in your way when the bronc busting and bull riding starts."

"That's pretty cool," Barney said. "And pretty smart, too. If they wanna show their kids what they do 'n stuff."

"It's a good way to see who the little up-and-coming cowboys are," K agreed. "They know what they're talking about and don't talk smack when the riding starts."

Barney let out a snort and shook his head. "That's no fun. It's more fun when you can heckle like when Clint tried out baseball for, like, two days before Dad got himself and Mom killed." He shrugged, completely glossing over that part. "But it was fun to shout 'hey batter' at him 'cause he'd turn _so red_ ," he added, ruffling Clint's hair as the younger Barton glared.

K frowned slightly. "I always get a little heckling for the bull riding," K said. "But I don't care, since I almost always win, too. The boys don't like getting beat by a girl."

"Does your friend do that too?" Barney asked.

"He did the first time I beat him," K said. "But he got over it alright."

"It's 'cause you're so awesome he couldn't keep being mad, right, K?" Clint said, grinning up at her. "That's just how it is."

"More like he wanted me to show him how I did it," she said, smiling his way.

"That makes sense," Barney said with a little nod. He leaned back and tipped his head back to look up at the ceiling of the truck before he smirked. "Betcha put him in his place."

"Actually," K said, glancing his way. "I just smiled and kept beating him. Hit him in the wallet and his pride."

Barney considered that for a second before he smirked again. "Sneaky. Not how _I'd_ do it, but I think I like it."

"If all goes well, we'll _all_ have new belt buckles the next time we get together," K said.

"I'll win one for both of us," Clint told Barney, nodding proudly. "So we can match."

"Yeah, but what if you pick out something lame?" Barney said, wrinkling his nose. "Just get me a bull one, huh?"

"We only get belt buckles that we win," K said. "Sell the saddles … you can only ride one anyhow."

"Or you could collect 'em like a weird stamp lady," Clint laughed.

"I have a box of belt buckles in the cottage," she said. "That's good enough."

The group of them were all in decent moods as they pulled up to the Chinese place, and K gave Sicem the order to sit in her seat as the boys filed out of the truck. "No eggrolls for Sicem," she warned. "But he can have bits of meat if you want to share."

"Then can I get those meat stick thingies?" Clint asked.

"Get whatever you like," K said.

Clint grinned at that, though Barney was still almost frowning at K, obviously trying to size her up and waiting until Clint was distracted with Sicem once they were pulled over to eat where the dog could run free.

"How come you're being so… so like this?" Barney demanded.

K frowned as she tipped her head looking at him. "What do you mean?"

"Nobody's ever this nice unless they want something, and you're not gonna screw with my little brother, so what are you doing?" Barney asked — and she could definitely see Clint written all over the look Barney was giving her, right down to the nervous lip bite despite his stance with his hands on his hips.

"Barney, I don't know what kind of people you've dealt with until now, but that's not how I was raised," she said. "My parents taught me to take care of the people I like and to trust my gut. That's all I'm doing." She shook her head. "That — and I know what it's like to leave home early. And I know how it was for me — as a girl. I don't know what you boys have to put up with, but it was a long time before I could see when someone was trying to run a scam. This isn't one of those times."

Barney bounced on one foot as he considered her. "You just… you just don't make sense," he decided at last. "But… I guess if you're gonna not make sense and be nice to Clint while you're doing it…"

She let out a long breath. "Let me put it this way," K said. "Do you like it when people treat you like crap? Or when you see people treating kids younger than you like crap?"

Barney shook his head slowly. "No. That's how come I'm learning how to fight."

"Do you think that's going to change when you're all grown up? Or that you'll start treating kids like crap?"

He shook his head again. "No… I'm _never_ gonna do that!" he said, his eyes wide.

She smiled his way. " _That_ is what this is, Barney."

Barney tipped his head to the side and let out a little 'huh' before he slowly nodded and even gave her a little smile. "Okay then," he said, rubbing a hand through his hair. "I just gotta make sure Clint is okay, y'know? It's important."

She nodded. "Yeah. Maybe when we have more time — and it's not such a happy day — I'll tell you how I left home, okay? But just do me a favor: when you're all grown up, if you see some kids that need help — help them. Even if they're doing pretty good. You can help them do a little better."

Barney nodded. "Yeah," he said, watching her a little more openly this time, a smile just barely tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, I can do that for sure. I can take care of other kids like Clint and stuff."

She nodded once. "Great. Then do me a favor _now._ Keep your money in your pocket. I've got this."

Barney smirked and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Okay, K," he said. "But only so I can save it for being grown up on my own, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," she agreed as Clint made his way back over to them, panting and grinning.

"Sicem plays fetch with the meat sticks!" he declared to both of them in between giggles and pants. "I ate a couple and he drooled _all_ over the other ones so I'm not gonna eat 'em but I can throw 'em _real_ far!"

"I betcha can," Barney said with a crooked grin.

"Yeah, and Sicem sometimes brings me back other sticks with the other one and now I've got a lot and I think he's gonna sleep _real_ hard," Clint said, nodding to himself and also, admittedly, showing signs of how tired he was as he rubbed one eye, though he was still grinning.

"Hey, we still have to get back to the cabin, right?" K said, giving Clint a significant look.

"Oooh, yeah!" Clint said, nodding seriously. "Yeah, we gotta go back to the cabin we got." He grabbed onto Barney's arm, and Barney gave K a look that clearly said he was playing along with his little brother as Clint led the way to climb back into the truck so they could head back out.

It was just starting to get dark when they got to the cabin, and as Clint had predicted, Sicem was pretty worn out by the time they got back. The dog made his way over to his water bowl, drank for a long, sloppy while, then flopped down in front of the picture window with a grumbling yawn.

K winked at Clint and handed him a book of matches as he zipped past to where the cake was that he'd picked out for Barney. And Barney froze when he saw the cake, his mouth hanging open in a way that K was sure he didn't realize he was doing. Just like he probably didn't know he had started to grin, either. "You got me a cake," he said, almost like he was just catching up to it.

"Yep! We got a German chocolate one, 'cause I remembered you liked the icing, even if I think it's weird," Clint said, wrinkling his nose at Barney.

Barney grinned at Clint. "I'll just eat your icing," he promised.

"Light 'em up," K said on her way to grab some plates.

Barney's grin got even wider at that as he sat down by Clint and grabbed a match to light up the nine candles on the cake. "We haven't done this in a _long_ time," he told Clint.

Clint nodded his agreement. "I don't remember Mom much, but I remember she did this," he said in a whisper to Barney that obviously was meant just for the two of them.

Barney nodded. "Yep. And potatoes. And the park when it was just us three," he said. He always tried to remind Clint of that stuff, since he had been six-almost-seven when their parents died, so he remembered more.

Clint grinned at Barney and pushed him in the shoulder. "Okay, so you gotta blow 'em out and make a wish and stuff, 'cause I know I definitely don't wanna eat _wax_."

Barney rolled his eyes at Clint but went ahead and did just that. "Happy now?" he asked, rolling his eyes — but unable to hide the smile — when Clint nodded happily.

When K returned, she handed Barney the knife. "Since you've been learning to handle this kind of thing … you can cut your cake."

Barney grinned at that as he cut into the cake. "When I get the hang of it, I bet I can twirl it and stuff."

"How is the throwing coming along?" she asked.

"I'm not real good yet," Barney admitted. "I haven't had a lotta time, you know, 'cause we're all performing and stuff. But I learned how to throw 'em — even if I can't… y'know… hit stuff yet."

"You will," she said. "Just takes a light touch."

"I'm learning," Barney agreed as he carefully sliced up a piece for Clint and then himself.

"You'll be real fast at it," Clint said. "You'll be better than stupid Jacques in no time!"

Barney shook his head at Clint for that one. "He's a good teacher," he defended.

"He's stupid and he tried to get lucky with K," Clint said with his chin thrust out and a look of pure defiance on his face.

Barney frowned and looked toward K, then back to Clint. "Yeah. Well. He's been kinda nicer lately," he said.

"That's nice to hear," K said with a pleasant sort of smile.

"He says you'll get tired of playing watchdog eventually," Barney said. "I heard him getting pissy," he added, this time with a little relish. "I'm only gonna stick around until he shows me how to use all those weapons and then I'm _gone_."

She shook her head at that. "I've been told I'm part watchdog. Not gonna happen. And I've got a few ideas to get the drop on him for fun. So there's that too."

"You think scaring the crap out of him is a fun family bonding activity?" Barney had to tease — before he even fully thought about it.

"It could be," she replied. "First man I've met that doesn't like it when I reply in his native tongue."

"K knows French," Clint said proudly.

Barney grinned. "Can you teach me some?"

She nodded. "Can you tell me what he says to you — a lot of the time? I can translate."

Barney closed one eye as he tried to think of what it was Jacques said. "Ummm…. It's like… _ferme… ta…"_ he scrunched his face up a little more. "Um. It starts with kinda… _gue…_ something."

" _Gueule_?" K asked, though her gaze was a little bit harder than the boys had seen before.

Barney nodded. "Yeah, you said it."

"Yeah, he was being a total jerk," she said. "That was shut up — with a four letter word added in." She shook her head. " _Sans-couilles._ "

"That… makes sense," Barney said. "The way he said it sounds like that."

"Yeah, sometimes you can tell what people are saying even if you don't know what they're saying," Clint said.

She looked irritated still as she met Barney's gaze. "You know what my favorite foreign swear is?"

Barney leaned forward, clearly delighted at the idea. "Whatcha got?"

" _Skitstövel_ ," she said.

"What's it mean?" Barney asked, trying the word out a few times with the troublemaking look of any kid who had just been allowed to curse on purpose.

She couldn't help but smirk. "Literally it means 'shit-boot', but it's a pretty good word to describe the kind of person your mentor is most of the time."

Clint fell apart laughing, and Barney was grinning to himself as he repeated the word, though his pronunciation was a little off. "I'm gonna use that next time," he decided with a single nod.

"It's not French, so I don't know that he'll pick it up," she laughed as she got up and left the boys to their business.

"Even better," Barney said before he turned to Clint. "It's only fair, right? I mean, I didn't know what he was saying before either, so, turnabout."

"Makes sense to me," Clint agreed, grinning crookedly around a bite of cake.

Barney shot his brother a grin right back, leaning back in his seat a bit and watching Clint get more and more droopy. "You got a good thing, you and K," he said quietly.

Clint nodded. "Yeah. I like her."

Barney grinned as he got up and picked up Clint's plate to take it over to the kitchen. "You tell me if she ever changes her mind, okay? You just gotta find my circus, and I'll protect you — like we always do. Got it?"

Clint nodded seriously. "Uh-huh. And you tell me when you wanna not be with Jacques anymore, okay?"

"Got it," Barney said with a nod.


	6. Home, Home on the Rodeo

**Notes: Many thanks to CC for this particular chapter, since I know very little about how rodeos work. Not gonna like, 90% of this was her work and then me Clint-reacting to everything because she is the expert here, and it's amazing to watch her work ;)**

 **And thanks, CC, for the reviews, too! I agree; seeing Barney being so wary of everything good that's happening just makes me so mad on the boys' behalf. The two of them reacting to the world around them is enough to get the hackles up on anyone with a heart, really. No wonder K's adopted them so. Hard.**

 **And griezz, as I've said many, many times, the Fraction run is the BEST. Read ALL of it because it is BEAUTIFUL. I'm basing a lot of the Barton brothers on those two and the flashbacks in that series, and I also think it helps that we're hitting the Bartony boys while they're still young and Jacques hasn't played super favoritism with Clint and there isn't that unhealthy competition there. Cutting it off at the pass, as it were ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: Home, Home on the Rodeo**

* * *

The morning that the rodeo showed up in town, K was up early — dressed only slightly differently than usual, her jeans a little bit looser around the knees and a scuffed-up-looking pair of cowboy boots to finish out the rest of the usual attire.

She was pulling her hair back into a braid when she came out to where Clint was just waking up. "I have to go talk to my friend. I called him a few weeks ago, but I'll need to see which horses he has with him before I can sign up for anything." She tipped her head at him. "Same spot as the circus. You can come if you like."

"I think I wanna," Clint said with a nod. "I used to live on a farm — I mean an _actual_ farm and not like… yeah." He drew himself up. "I always liked being around the animals!"

"Well, go ahead and get dressed," she said. "We'll head out when you're ready to go. I think you'll like my friend."

Clint nodded, though he didn't offer any commentary on the matter, just quickly getting dressed and climbing in the truck with her, though K could tell that he was a little nervous, even if he didn't say anything until they were almost there. "What if I fall off the sheep and don't get a belt buckle?" he asked.

"You'll still have fun," she said.

Clint nodded at that. "Yeah, that's true," he said, then shot her a little smile. "I just really want a belt buckle. I wanna show Barney that I can do stuff like that."

"All you can do is give it your best shot," she said.

Clint settled back, watching the landscape pass them by before they finally arrived and he hopped down out of the truck, bouncing from one foot to the other. It was quickly transitioning from nerves to excitement for him — and it showed.

K led the way past one horse trailer after another until they finally came up to one that had half a dozen horses tied to it outside along the far fence line. "Here we go," she said. "I trained three of these." She pointed to the three on the left with a little smirk. "All of them are fast."

Clint looked downright awed as he looked around at the horses. "Wow."

She made her way over to the furthest horse on the left and put a hand on the horse's withers, smirking to see how well-muscled the animal was, when a tall Native American man stepped around the trailer and picked her up around the waist with a laugh. "I see how it is. Go right to the horses. Forget to say hello," he laughed as he set her back down, though once her feet hit the ground, K simply turned to give him a hug.

"Oh right. Manners or something," she said. "Hey Joe. You should meet my friend Clint."

The tall man turned to see Clint, who was hanging back behind K, rubbing the back of his arm with another and trying to look smaller, though he did look up when K introduced him with a small 'hi'.

"Clint has been helping me with Sicem," K said, which got a broader smile out of Joe.

"You know, I gave her that puppy," Joe said. "He was the runt of his litter. No one wanted him."

Clint nodded quietly. "She… she likes little guys, I guess."

"He said he wants to try the mutton busting," she continued, smiling Clint's way. "But he needs a hat. Whatcha got?"

Joe kept his bright smile in place as he tried to wave Clint over. "We have a few." He stepped over the trailer tongue, and another big golden retriever barely picked up its head from under the trailer. "Don't mind Teddy," he said. "He sleeps more than anything else these days."

Clint couldn't help but smile and pause to scratch Teddy's ears. "I don't mind dogs," he said. "They're smarter than people sometimes, you know that?"

He nodded in agreement. "Teddy is Sicem's Dad," Joe told him. "Can you see the family resemblance?" The dog looked like he was smiling even as he was stretched out, his tail slowly wagging behind him and thumping the ground.

Clint looked Teddy over more critically before he broke into a grin and nodded. "Yeah. He's got a smart face like Sicem does," he decided.

Joe was chuckling to himself at that but opened up the passenger side of the truck to pull out a hat box. "I've got a couple that might fit you … white or black?"

"Umm… black," Clint said. "I don't wanna get a white one dirty."

Joe nodded and tipped his head as he looked at him, one eye closed as he held up his hands with a 'hmm', then pulled out a black hat and put it on Clint's head. "It shouldn't feel like it will fall off — or be too tight."

Clint took a step back from Joe once the hat was on his head so he could adjust it himself before he smiled lightly and tipped his hat up. "Do I look like a cowboy, K?"

"Sure do," she called back as she turned her attention back to the horses. "Which one did you want to lend me, Joe?"

He looked at Clint and held his breath, winking at him before he called back to her. "I thought you might want the buckskin."

"Dream on," she said in a lazy tone that had Joe laughing.

"I know you're going to pick the one I want," he told her as he took a seat on the tailgate once he dropped it.

"Natch," she agreed, her focus on the horse's legs as she walked around them. "I'll take the sorrel," K said slowly.

"Of course," Joe said under his breath. "The fastest one." He shook his head. "You got it."

K smiled brightly at him then waved Clint over. "Come and meet my equine buddy for the day, Clint."

Clint slipped over quietly, not wanting to interrupt the back-and-forth that K had with Joe, though he couldn't help but smile when he saw the horse she'd picked out. "You're gonna wipe the pants off of everyone."

"We'll see," she said. "Her name is Bonney. She gets a little keyed up at the start, but … she _is_ fast."

"Well, you said you trained 'em, right? So she'll be okay with you," Clint reasoned.

"She'll be more than okay," Joe said with his arms crossed. "They work better for her. It's gotta be some kind of … voodoo she does with them."

"She's just nice," Clint said, shrugging up both shoulders and frowning a bit Joe's way.

Joe grinned back at him. "I don't mean it in a bad way. She just … knows how to make them give their all."

"She's just nice," Clint said again, with a little shrug, as if that explained everything.

K reached over to pop the hat off his head and mess up his hair. "Sweet boy. Come on — I'm gonna go sign up for my classes. Put you in mutton busting if you want it."

"Yes please!" he said, nodding and all but attaching to her side as he readjusted his hat. "Stop messin' up my hair. It's just fine like it is."

"But you're cuter all tousled."

Clint stuck his tongue out at her, but he couldn't help but grin all the same. "Uh-huh. Sure."

The three of them started off toward the office, though Joe kept back a few paces to give Clint some space. And when they got there, Joe handled most of the paperwork for all three of them, surprising Clint when he still signed up for a few of the same classes K was riding in.

Clint didn't say anything directly to Joe, of course, but he did lean over to K with a small frown. "He's gonna be mad when you beat him," he whispered.

"He'll be fine," she said with a little wave. "It still looks like a win on the horse. Doesn't matter who's riding her."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," Clint said. "But if he gets mad, I'll hit him."

"Okay," she agreed, smirking crookedly.

The rest of their afternoon was spent getting the horses ready for the rodeo, and K showed Clint how to tack up after they brushed Bonney out carefully to make sure she shone like a copper penny in the afternoon sunlight.

"Want to ride with me for the opening?" K asked. "They always play the national anthem, and all the competitors ride around the arena for the crowd."

Clint broke into a genuinely delighted laugh as he nodded. "I haven't ridden a horse since I was little!"

"Well, this horse is really well trained," K told him. "All you have to do is sit there. Don't squeeze her with your legs at all. Okay?"

Clint nodded. "Got it. No squeezing," he said.

K took Bonney over to the back of the pick up truck and hopped on, waving Clint over to join her — sitting just behind her saddle as Joe mounted up on the gray horse that K hadn't considered too hard. The three of them started toward the arena — side by side and joined by more and more riders the closer they got. And when they entered the arena, it was like stepping into a different world. It was the same field as the circus used — but the circus didn't use the seating, since they had to set up trapeze things, so they used their own. But this was just as packed, with people sitting all around the long arena as they rode slowly around.

When the national anthem came on, all the cowboys took off their hats and covered their hearts, and it seemed like most of the horses were even being a little better behaved as they stood still, but once it was over — and the announcer started getting the crowd riled up and cheering — the horses all started to dance a little.

"Just stay centered. Hang on to the back of the saddle if you need it," K said over her shoulder as they followed the flow of the herd on the way out of the arena.

Clint nodded quietly, grabbing on just in case. "This is really cool," he breathed out.

"It gets better," she promised as they came to a stop just outside of the end of the arena. She waited until the crowd cleared out and the announcer started talking about the order of the events — and of course, mutton busting was first up.

The couple of sheep were being herded into the arena by a little border collie, and K helped Clint get down before she handed the reins to Joe so she could get Clint's number on his back. "You ready to go?"

Clint nodded, though he was chewing on his bottom lip, a sure sign that he was nervous. "It's gonna be fun," he said decisively, as much to her as to himself.

"It sure is," she agreed with a grin. "They don't go in order. They'll pull numbers out. Just remember :you're number 4. You just have to hang on for six seconds."

"Got it," Clint said, flashing her a thumbs up and a crooked grin that was more bluster than anything else, though he seemed to relax a little more when he heard that being number 4 didn't mean he had to go toward the front of the line.

A whole line of kids started toward the rodeo clowns that were herding the sheep and helping the cowboy getting set up for the rides, and to Clint's relief, there were five other kids that got to go ahead of him so he could see what they were doing and try to do it better when his turn came up.

The first two didn't make it past the first jump, and the third one fell off sideways as the sheep made its first turn. The next two kids were pretty good... and just like that, the announcer called out his number after pulling it from a fishbowl. And along with it, he loudly announced Clint's name to come to the cowboys.

Clint was nodding to himself as he went up to his mark, though K could see when he took a moment to hold his breath, count to three, and let it out before he nodded. Once he was on the sheep, he had made up his mind: he was _not_ going to let go for anything.

Almost as soon as the sheep took off, Clint closed his eyes and hung on — well, _clung_ on was the more apt description, really. He was holding on for everything he had, even after his hat came off, but even for as scary as it was… he started to laugh with delight at the pure _rush_.

He didn't even hear the buzzer go off, but when the sheep finally stopped and the cowboy pulled him off, startling him nearly out of his skin, he realized that not just K and Joe but the whole crowd was cheering him on, too.

"Good job, son!" The cowboy told him with a broad grin, handing him his hat as he brushed some of the dirt off Clint's back. Several of the rodeo clowns were following him out, trying to get the crowd to keep the applause going and clapping for him along with them.

Clint was still riding a little bit of a rush… and a little bit of the adrenaline spike on top of that from having to get peeled off the sheep… but when he heard everyone cheering, he broke into a grin and finally let out a little whoop and started waving right back at everyone, especially K.

"Didja see that?" he called out once he spotted her.

"You did _great_ ," K called back, grinning. "Think you can sit with Joe and Bonney? I have to go into the next event." When he got close enough, she pulled him into a hug. "I doubt anyone can top that."

Clint grinned into the hug as he returned it. "I just decided I was gonna do it, so I did," he explained.

"That's how it's done," she agreed. She tipped her head toward the announcer's box. "If you don't want to stick with the horse, you can sit up there. But we're headed into bareback riding once the last kid goes through."

"Well…." Clint glanced up at the box. "I think… I'll just go up there," he decided. "I like being up high above everyone so I can see 'em."

"Awesome," she said, putting her arm around his shoulders before she waved at Joe, who simply gathered up the reins on Bonnie and stayed where he was on his horse. K led Clint to the box and told the cowboy that was watching over it that he was with her, which left him more or less with the box to himself to start as K winked at him and then made her way right into a knot of nothing but tall, muscular-looking cowboys.

Right off the bat, most of them were frowning, and a few thought she was simply in the wrong place, but she smiled back at them pleasantly as the cowboys in the announcer booth started setting up the draw. Unlike the mutton busting, the riders pulled numbers to see which horse they were going to ride and then simply waited near the chute for their bronc to be loaded in.

Some of the men seemed nervous at their picks — and Clint didn't quite see why until he heard the first clang of metal on metal when the first bareback horse started acting up in the chute, bashing itself against the gate, snorting and stomping while the announcer went through the rules for the crowd and explained that these riders had to make it eight seconds, one-handed, and were judged on how difficult the ride was. Anyone not meeting the eight-second baseline was hit with an automatic disqualification.

The first horse out of the gate managed to throw his rider at the five second mark, and the next one looked almost asleep in the chute until the buzzer sounded and the gate opened. That guy never made it out of the chute, and it took the pick up riders a solid ten minutes to catch the horse. So it was pretty clear that not all the horses were the same, and they couldn't judge which was going to be nasty.

Before K got to her turn, the cowboy nearest her that looked like a nice guy leaned over and started to try to chat. "Are you sure you want to try this? I'd hate to see you get hurt."

"Don't worry," she said brightly. "You won't."

The guy gave her a look for that and tried again. "You pulled a nasty one."

"Too bad for the horse."

When it was her turn, it was clear though that the guy wasn't making things up. They had trouble loading the horse in the chute. They had trouble putting the buck strap on. And even K had to work to even get _on_ the horse, riding it out when the horse reared up in the chute even before the buzzer went off to start the time. It tried to bash her off and was whinnying at a high pitch — entirely worked up as she calmly got herself settled into place. The announcer was ready to call it a scratch when the horse settled down just enough for K to give the gatekeeper a nod, and just like that, the buzzer went off, and the clowns yanked the gate open.

Right off, the horse bucked hard with a twist, putting enough effort into it that his grunts were heard over the music blaring. But she kept her seat and kept her form up — never missing a spur and never losing the relaxed looking way she held her free arm up until the buzzer rang again, showing eight seconds, and the pick up riders rushed over to pull her off the bronc. It was the first full ride of the night, and the crowd loved it.

When Clint looked over to the end of the arena, Joe was outright laughing with tears rolling down his cheeks. He couldn't help but grin as well, tipping his head down toward K with a crooked smile. "See that? She's gonna teach me how to do that," he told the cowboy nearest him.

"Try not to get your neck broke in the process, kid," the guy said. "I wouldn't even get _on_ that horse."

The next few events had more kids gathering up in the box, since it was a lot of team roping and tie down roping, and there were a surprising amount of cowboys with kids for those classes before the saddle bronc riding competition started up, and again, K made her way over, though Joe came over for that one too.

"How you likin' the rodeo?" Joe asked Clint. "I'm going to try to not break anything before the steer wrestling." He tipped his head at the fishbowl they were finishing up filling, and this time, when K drew, she and Joe showed each other their numbers, looking like they were comparing prizes.

Of course, that ride wasn't much different than the bareback, though more cowboys stayed on the full time, and it wasn't clear to Clint how that one was scored.

"There's no reason to let that little girl in the men's division," one of the cowboys complained as K finished her bronc ride not by jumping to the pick up rider but by riding it out until the bronc settled out, then hopping off to the ground. "She's gonna get herself killed."

Clint frowned when he heard it, but when he saw that some of the other cowboys were nodding along, he decided he couldn't let it stand and made his way over with his chin up. "She's braver than half of you guys for riding the bronco she got — so you can shut up."

The cowboy nearest him turned his way with a sympathetic expression. "That's not it, son. Women shouldn't do those things. If she falls, it'd be worse than if a man hit the dirt."

Clint pulled a face at him. "Well, you're wrong. And when she wins, you'll be even _wronger_."

A few of the cowboys looked insulted, but more of them were chuckling at Clint's point of view. Either way, it didn't stop their opinions even when K climbed over the fence — just like all the other cowboys were doing — and made her way over to Clint. "Hey bud. How's it going up here?"

"It's pretty good," he said, his arms crossed and the beginnings of a troublemaking look on his face. "Except you stuck me up here with a whole buncha sissies who can't handle it when they get beat by girls."

"Yeah, you have that in the too-tight-pants crowd," she said not even trying to keep her voice down. "Circulation gets all pinched down there, and the next thing you know, their brains don't work at all and they're saying things that their mothers would slap them for." She turned when the nearest cowboy let out a scoff and then openly gave him a once over. "If you think I'm talking about you, then I probably am."

The guy turned back around quickly, and K gave Clint a wicked smirk. "I've only got two events left. And only one of those is one these guys will be whining over."

"Kick their butts," Clint told her fervently.

"Oh yeah," she said, nodding. "I just bought a new rope for the bull riding. It'll be fine."

"And when you win, I'll make sure these jerks don't forget it," Clint whispered to her.

She smirked, and the two of them settled in to watch as Joe went out for his ride — and fell just shy of his eight seconds, with the crowd sounding properly disappointed with him. The next couple events went much better for him, though, and he came out with an excellent time on the bulldogging. And Clint had the best view as Joe dove off of his horse and put the steer in a headlock — flipping it over to catch what was apparently a personal best, time wise.

After a lot more roping classes, the energy of the crowd was clearly ratcheting up, and the music was getting louder, signalling the start of the last couple classes. The cowboys lined up on the fence as the bulls were sent into the ring — all of them prancing and snorting for the crowd to see before they were paraded right back out — and once again, the fishbowl came out.

The judges were carefully watching every bull rider as they mounted up. They were checking the rosin. The ropes. The cowboys gloves … Everything down to how they were situating their feet in the chute. And every bull was just as different as the horses had been.

Right before K's turn, the cowboy that had been snotty with Clint ended up having a very bad run. The guy lost his balance at the six second mark when the bull put in an unexpected twist and he couldn't pull his hand out of the bull rope, even as the bull spun and stomped, dragging him along like a rag doll until the rodeo clowns could pull him loose.

None of the cowboys still at the chute said a word, all of them just being respectful of him as they carried him out of the arena.

K headed over without so much as a backward glance, and she went through what the other bull riders quickly realized was her own tried and true ritual of prepping the bull she drew, though there was a little kerfuffle over which wrap she was using on her hand to secure her grip. The judge ruled it legal, but the cowboys all left shaking their heads and looking upset.

The bull was worked up and started to misbehave, bellowing and throwing himself around as K finished up and leaned forward. She settled in and tucked her chin down tight, catching the gate man's eye and holding his gaze for a moment before she raised her arm and nodded.

The ride was just as good as the first one with the horse, and the bull was nasty and quick-footed, throwing big bucks and spins. But like before, she didn't fall off, and she didn't lose her rhythm. And when it was done, it took some time to undo the rope and jump over to her pick up rider.

But again, the announcer and the crowd were eating it up, even if the cowboys were entirely unamused. K rushed over to Clint and handed him her bull rope. "Even if I don't win — there's a little trophy for you."

Clint grinned and then rushed to throw his arms around her in a hug. "That was amazing!"

She laughed and hugged him back. "Believe it or not, bulls are easier than horses," she laughed. "They don't flip over."

"Yeah, that makes sense, I think," he said, grinning even wider as she ruffled his hair — and this time, he let it stay ruffled.

It was only a few more rides before the barrel racing started though, and _all_ the cowboys were lined up on the fence for that, ogling the women that were coming out on their horses for the last category.

And of course, by that time, Clint had gotten himself well and truly worked up about those cowboys, and he made it a point to kick at one of the worst offenders. "If you're gonna stare at 'em, you're too stupid to actually get with 'em," he said, which had the cowboy in question letting out a scoff and shaking his head at Clint.

"You'll figure it out when you're older, kid."

"Old enough to know girls don't like guys that _drool_ ," Clint shot back with a huff before another couple cowboys laughed and pulled the guy away from Clint before he could get in anymore zingers, and Clint nodded to himself before he turned to watch the rest of what was going on.

After all, Clint was sure that K would prove them all wrong when she wiped the floor with them.

The barrel racing had the largest number of competitors, but it also had the quickest turnaround, since the ladies only waited long enough for the clock to reset before the next lady let her horse out to run.

And there were a few really fast ones, too. But when K took her turn, her horse wasn't dancing and prancing like the others were, and the cowboys all started chuckling when they watched her calmly turn Bonney in a slow circle. She turned to look over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised, and when she saw the signal from the booth, she let out a shout from the pit of her stomach as she gave Bonney the cue. The horse reared up on her back legs to spin in place and then dropped down, digging in hard as they flew into the arena.

They bumped every barrel, and not once did K grab a hold of the saddle horn, always looking ahead to the next turn.

When she made the last turn, one of the smart alec cowboys let out a low whistle when he saw the way the horse seemed to hug the barrel all the way around the turn, and as soon as she'd made it most of the way around, K pushed the reins forward and let out another shout, her legs entirely off the horse's sides as Bonney dug in even _harder_ , grunting with every single hoofbeat. They didn't slow down in the least until they were _out_ of the arena, and then K gave her the cue to woah hard enough that Bonney nearly sat down as she slid to a stop.

She totally ignored the crowd and the cheers as she reached down to give the horse a pet and then quickly shifted the way she was riding to get Bonney to calm down as she rode over to where Joe was waiting — and still grinning with his horse. When she stopped, she stood up in her stirrups and waved at Clint with one arm for him to join them.

Clint beamed, jumping up a bit so that he could see her better as she waved. "Toldja! Toldja you'd kick all their butts!" he sang out.

"We won't know for sure until they announce it," she said, though she looked ready to call it a day.

"Details," he said with a shrug.

Of course, the first class announced was mutton busting, and since Clint had already climbed up on Bonney with K, K simply nosed the horse back into the arena and rode up to the box so Clint could claim his prize — though the announcer was more than happy to make a show out of it for him. "I think we can expect to see great things out of this young man the way he's goin'; what do you think, folks?" he called out over the loudspeaker. "Watch out, lady, keep teaching him, and he'll give you a run for your money!"

Clint flushed with pleasure and grinned widely as he accepted the prize. "You betcha," he said, which only seemed to tickle the announcer even more.

K smiled at both of them as she let the horse head back to the edge of the arena, though they ended up making the return trip for bareback, bull riding — which K let Clint hold up over his head on the way out — and barrels, though she only hit third place for the saddle bronc.

Before it was over, Joe had collected first place on his bulldogging and had gotten a dozen offers from other barrel racers to try to buy Bonnie off of him.

"Looks like we got our belt buckles," K said quietly.

Clint grinned and nodded. "Yep! Can we give the bull one to Barney? I think he'd like that one."

"If he wants it," she said, nodding. "Lets go collect our money, though. You've got two hundred with your name on it, you know."

Clint froze before a grin broke out over his face. "I've _never_ had that much money before," he said in an awed whisper.

"You earned it," Joe added as he joined them, grinning.

Clint nodded. "I saw you won yours too," he said. "You did good."

"Yeah, it was a great score," he agreed. "Lucky for me you have to be a big tall person to pull them down or she'd probably steal that class from me too." He was chuckling as he said it and it was clear from his tone that it was purely an affectionate tease.

Clint shook his head at him. "Yeah. Well. At least you're not as stupid about it as those other guys were being."

"It only took one time of being sore before I got over it," Joe said. "They just haven't seen how much fun she's having out there to get over themselves."

"It was _really_ fun," Clint agreed, his eyes wide. "I mean, it was kind of scary at first, but I ended up really liking it."

"It's quick money," K said.

"And fun, right?" Clint said. "It's not like… like being a secretary or something."

"I don't know that I could do that," K said. "But yeah. Definitely fun."

Clint grinned at that and flashed her a thumbs up before he darted off to go collect their winnings, while K took a moment to give Joe a hug before they could head out.

"Thanks for the horse," K told him. "I'll let you know if I need to borrow one again."

Joe chuckled at that and shook his head at her. "I'm sure you will," he said.

"Win while you can, Joe. Win while you can," K couldn't help but tease.

He laughed outright at that one. "Yeah, fair enough. You gonna teach that to the kid?" he shot back.

"What? How to wipe the floor with people? Probably. He seems to come by it honest enough."

"Yeah, I noticed that," Joe said with a smirk. "Where'd you pick him up, anyhow?"

"Believe it or not, at a circus. Kid had a monster for a foster dad or … who knows what that idiot was. Had the gaul to hit him in public."

Joe's eyebrows shot straight up at that, and he was already shaking his head. "Yeah. Guessing he's not walking too well right now?"

"He's not walking at all," K said with a smirk. "He also tried to tell me my place, so you know. That's a whoopin' on its own."

Joe just started to laugh at that. "Where'd you find this world's dumbest human? Oh, right. The circus. Explains everything," he said, still laughing.

"He was drunk. And the circus folk were entertained enough to offer me weapons to beat him more, so you know. I think the kid's better off." She shrugged. "But that's just my opinion."

"Seems to me like he agrees," Joe said with a nod. "And you know ... if you need any help…"

"I know. Graham will have work if I need a place to crash," K said. "But I'm still trying to stay mobile for now."

Joe nodded before he stepped forward to wrap K up in a hug. "Don't be a stranger. Gotta say I could use another good laugh like seeing them pull your kid off of that sheep."

"He wasn't going to lose," she said. "And he _really_ wanted to win a buckle."

Joe just started to laugh at that. "Well that's that then," he said, spinning her around and setting her back down before he tipped his head toward where Clint was rushing over with the winnings in hand. "Guess you'd better go ooh and ahh over that buckle," he teased, giving her one last squeeze before he slipped off to let K and Clint celebrate.

"K! Look!" Clint called out, panting as he caught up to her. "Look; I got to get everything for both of us and — and it's a lot."

"Think it'll hold us over for a week or two?" she asked.

"For a _lot_ more than that!" Clint said, his eyes wide. "Come on! We should go home and put it somewhere Sicem won't eat it or something."

She laughed at that and nodded. "Sounds like a solid plan. What do you say to a campfire tonight before we head out tomorrow?"

Clint nodded. "Yeah. Unless you're tired and then I can buy us some burgers or something 'cause I have money now, you know," he said quickly.

"You do," she said. "But we have groceries to burn up before we head out, so we should do that, I think."

Clint nodded. "Oooh, yeah. That's true," he said, nodding seriously before he simply rushed to hug her. "Thanks, K. I'm really glad you took me to the rodeo."


	7. Who Are You Running From?

**Chapter 7: Who Are You Running From?**

"Betcha I can knock the pinecone down with this one," Clint said with an easy grin as he stooped down to pick up a perfectly-shaped rock on the path they were walking.

"Yeah? Prove it."

He grinned even wider at K and tossed the rock up in the air again to catch it before he sized up the pinecone and tossed the rock, knocking it off the branch and taking half the needles with it for how the rock lodged in the crook of the branch and bounced the limb. He giggled delightedly. "See?"

"Not bad," she said before she ruffled his hair. "Getting better all the time."

"So you'll let me throw something pointy for my birthday, right?"

"You bet," she agreed. "How pointy do you want it to be?"

"Well, I mean, I really just want to learn how to throw a knife but if you wanna get me something _cool_ like a sword or ... or I could be like, like an archer or something or a ninja or I bet I could do all of 'em!" Clint said, gaining more speed the more he thought about it and grinning happily.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "I like the all of the above option."

"You always like that option," Clint laughed before he waded a bit into the bushes to grab the pinecone he'd knocked down, tossing it up to catch it over and over again as he tried to get it a little higher and in a little better arc every time.

They were moving toward a small stream that crossed the path when K heard something that wasn't part of the usual forest ambiance. She tipped her head to the side to listen a little harder, and it only took a moment to realize that yes, those were helicopters.

"Clint," she said in an urgent whisper, but Clint wasn't paying her any attention. He had already climbed onto a couple of the rocks to wash his hands off in the cool water. "Clint!" she said, a little louder this time, but once more, he didn't seem to have heard her at all.

The helicopters were getting closer, and K was sure they'd spot them out in the open in the stream, so she darted forward to pull Clint under the cover of the trees — which was no small feat, considering the second she had grabbed a hold of Clint, he instinctively pushed away from her with a wide-eyed look of terror.

"I'm sorry, bud but we have to hide — _now._ "

Clint stared at her, but he stopped fighting her too and followed her into the trees, watching with his shoulders drawn up to his ears and an obvious look of panic as the helicopters passed overhead. Clint's chest was heaving, and he was fidgeting and not daring to speak a word until the low roar had moved further on down the stream. And even then, it wasn't until K had heard the last of the choppers that she relaxed even the slightest bit, though she was still looking out for any sign of more of them.

"Who are those guys?" Clint asked very quietly.

"Very bad men," she replied.

Clint looked up at the sky again and nodded. "What are they doing way out here?" he asked. "Is there… some kind of secret lair?" He looked toward K, his head swinging around. " _Did we find a secret bad guy lair?_ "

"I sure hope not," she said.

"It would be kind of cool though, right?" Clint asked as he cautiously peeked around the trees like he might find a secret entrance somewhere.

"Maybe if it was different bad guys with a secret lair," she replied. "Not these, though." She looked deeper into the woods, following the line that the choppers had used. "We should get out of here."

Clint nodded. "Right. Yeah. Probably can't take on a _whole lair_ just us, right?"

She smirked over at him for a moment. "Well, it wouldn't be easy."

"This is why I need swords," Clint said. "And… and arrows. And maybe a bo staff too."

"Arrows would be best — so you don't have to get near them. Swords … don't really do much on these guys." She picked a different game trail to follow back to the general area where they'd parked the truck. "They carry guns. So …"

"Okay. Well… okay, then I guess I'll learn how to shoot better than they can," Clint said.

"That'd just take an afternoon of practice," she said in an almost dull tone.

Clint tipped his head to the side. "So… do you know those bad guys, then?" he asked. "'Cause it sure sounds like it."

She drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment as they walked. "It's … it might be someone else, but I think it was someone I know. Yes."

Clint nodded, watching her openly and not bothering to hide his concern. "Okay, well, I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, got it?"

"I hope you don't even have to deal with them." She spared a moment to give him a little smile before they kept walking — but it wasn't long before once again, something was wrong. But this time, she didn't hear them as much as she caught the scent of gun oil in the wind. Which meant they were waiting. And close.

Again, she whispered harshly for Clint to stop. Climb a tree. Hide. _Something_.

And again, he totally missed it — though before she could make the rush to grab his arm again, when she realized he simply _didn't hear her,_ he'd gotten far enough ahead of her that one of the black clad-soldiers made his presence known — between herself and Clint. He was too close to the guy — and she had to get to the soldier before he hit his radio and tipped off the rest of them.

She rushed right for the guy with a little growl before she dove into beating on him — kicking off the festivities by taking his rifle off of him and cracking him in the face with the butt-stock. But that made a lot louder noise than her whisper had when the muted crack nearly echoed the trees around them, startling Clint and getting him to spin around to face her and drop his jaw when he saw what was going on.

As the soldiers started to converge on her spot, she simply moved to fight them openly and gave Clint a look that clearly conveyed that she wanted him to hide as she fought the men.

It was the look more than any of the previous commands that finally got through as Clint went from shock and panic at the crack of the butt-stock to scrambling toward the trees to all but dive into the undergrowth and stay down, which freed up K to go to town.

She was quick and efficient about it as she tore through the soldiers. She wasn't going for elegance or trying to be nice about it — she just wanted them gone, and fast. And she wanted them away from Clint's hiding place in the bushes, too. So she simply made sure that anyone who came close died fast, whether it was broken necks or quick stab wounds.

Finally, she was left standing there, panting, trying to get her breath back before she pushed her hair out of her face and nodded to herself.

"Come on, Clint. They're down, but we have to get to Sicem and get out of here fast," K called out as she stomped down on one of their radios.

Clint slipped out of the bushes looking totally sideswiped as he rushed to catch up with her. "Wow," he kept muttering under his breath as they ran.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Uh-huh," he said quickly. "Are you okay?"

"I think I broke a nail or two, but I'm alright."

Clint nodded but didn't say anything until they were almost to the truck and then vaulted into the backseat with Sicem. "Aren't they gonna follow us?"

"They're not getting up for a while," she promised.

Clint nodded as he quickly buckled in and snuggled up with Sicem. The golden retriever licked his face a few times, distracting the boy pretty well as K focused on putting distance between them and the guys in the woods.

"Sorry you had to see that, kiddo," K said after a long while.

"I'm okay," Clint promised. "I mean…. You took 'em down. And I was hiding, and they walked right past me."

"Well, they did attack us," she pointed out.

"Yeah, they came out of _nowhere_ ," Clint said, his eyes wide, clearly riding a bit of an adrenaline high.

She nodded to herself. "Yeah… I heard them coming from a pretty good way out," she said. "How about you? When did you hear them? I know I'm a little above average."

"I didn't… umm." Clint bit his lip for a moment and scratched Sicem behind the ear. "I heard the _helicopters_ , anyway."

She nodded at that. "Then we need to come up with a better system," she decided.

"I can do it," Clint insisted, suddenly looking up at her with both determination and a little bit of fear in his gaze.

"I know you can," she agreed. "But if I have to get down and sneaky, I don't want you wandering without knowing what I'm up to. That could be really bad."

"I can do it," Clint said, frowning to himself. "I can. I just gotta see it when you talk."

"Yeah," she said, thinking it over. "But what if I can't talk without giving away where we're hiding?"

At that, Clint actually seemed to brighten. "Oh, that's okay. I can read lips."

She blinked a couple of times and turned his way for a second. "Well, aren't you just full of surprises, Clint?"

He couldn't help but smile at the compliment, nodding happily. "Yeah, I learned that… Barney helped me learn that and some sign so he could help me, 'cause not everyone can put up with me not hearing 'em."

"I know a little bit of sign," she said. "It's useful. Unless your partner can't spell for beans."

Clint flushed a little bit. "I'm not very good."

She gave him a grin. "I wasn't talking about you. You have an excuse for not knowing how to spell. Grown men do _not._ "

"Well, I'll try to spell it so you know what it means."

"Just watch the swearing," she said, raising an eyebrow his way.

Clint grinned. "No way," he said fervently. "I'm gonna learn how to spell those funny foreign swear words too!"

"I don't know that you'd need to spell them," K laughed. "I think they have signs of their own."

"Probably," Clint agreed. He scratched Sicem's ears again and bit his lip. "I'm really sorry I didn't hear 'em, K."

"No, no — that's not your fault," she said quickly. "Like I said, my hearing is better than most. And you didn't know _that._ "

Clint shook his head. "No, I didn't," he agreed. "Is it like how you can get cut and not hurt?"

"It's part of it, yeah," she said before she looked between him and the dog. "All of my senses are really good. I can smell things better than Sicem by a long shot."

"So he's really not so good as a guard dog," Clint giggled.

"He's just really good company," she admitted with a little smirk. "And saved me a lot of loneliness."

Clint nodded, glancing down at Sicem and obviously thinking about something for a long time before he glanced up at K. "My… um… sometimes I don't hear very good," he said quietly. "I can hear okay sometimes, but it's easier if I can _see_ it too."

She nodded at that. "Okay. Most kids don't know sign, so I was figuring that out, actually. Nothing wrong with it, though. And it's not your fault if you can't hear very well. I can hear enough for both of us."

Clint smirked at that. "Yeah, okay," he said, nodding along. "And I can see lots of stuff for both of us!" he said quickly. "I can see really good. I pay attention really good!"

"You really do," she agreed. "There isn't much you miss."

He grinned at that, straightening up importantly. "Except I don't know who those guys were," he said. "They had, like… they had uniforms but I had a foster dad who was in the military, and he didn't look like that when he wore his uniforms."

"They weren't _exactly_ military," K said slowly. "A little closer to CIA or SHIELD."

"Oooh, so they were evil spies?" Clint asked, his eyes wide.

"That's pretty right on the nose," she agreed. "They're not nice people at all. They don't work with nice people, and they make people work for them if they think they're useful enough."

"So like _slaves_?" Clint whispered.

She was biting her lips between her teeth before she had to tip her head at that. "Some of them, yes."

"That's really bad," Clint said, still in that bare whisper. "They shouldn't do that. That…" He paused. " _Were they gonna do that to us?_ " he said, suddenly looking even more wide-eyed.

"I don't know what they were going to do if they caught us."

Clint watched her for a long time, still with eyes as big as dinner plates, before he scrunched his shoulders up nearly to his ears. "They were gonna try and grab you, huh?" he asked quietly. "That's how come you know 'em."

She took a moment to just take a few breaths before she glanced at him and nodded her head.

"I don't want them to grab you," he said. "I — I'll bite 'em and kick 'em and — and I won't let 'em!" he added, gaining a little steam with every word.

She gave him a little smile and grinned widely on one side of her mouth just to tap her canines. "Biting doesn't work."

Clint stared at her for a long time. "Wow," he said quietly.

"If you'd rather I took you to be with Barney, I can get you to the next stop fast."

Clint shook his head quickly. "No, I don't wanna. I just ... I don't… how'm I supposed to keep you safe?" he asked in a breath.

"Well, I guess I'll teach you a few sneaky tricks," she said. "And the first thing we need to do is change trucks."

"Okay," he agreed. "And — and I wanna get a pocketknife."

"First decent throwing knives we see, I'm going to pick them up and show you how to use them. If you want knives," K said. "And if I can't find any, I'm sure Jacques will donate a set."

Clint couldn't help but laugh. "Oh yeah. For sure." He bit his lip. "I just wanna have something in my pocket in case the bad guys catch up so I can hit 'em, since you said I can't bite 'em."

She nodded at that. "I'd prefer we just avoided them."

"They must be really scary," he said quietly. "I've never seen you get scared of _anybody_."

She shrugged her shoulders up to her ears. "I'm still just a short little woman, Clint. I'm not crazy strong. I can't fly. I can fight, but if there are enough people fighting against me? It's still a matter of numbers. One on one, they don't stand a chance."

"So they gang up on you," Clint said, frowning hard. "That's not okay."

"That's most of what they do," she said. "That's how they get you. Even someone without a lot of fighting skill would be dragged off with a man on each arm and an armed guard to cover."

Clint seemed to shrink down a bit into the seat. "I don't like that," he said quietly.

"Neither do I," she said. "And back there..." She paused and turned his way with one eyebrow raised. "How many did you count?"

"Well, I was hiding, but I saw at least twenty pairs of boots," Clint said. "I dunno if they were the same guys just passing me a few times, though. I was just watching for your feet," he admitted, flushing a bit.

She nodded. "That actually sounds about right. A platoon from these guys is around twenty."

"That's a lot of people to come get you," he said. "Do they want somebody who smells really well and hears really well like… like a tracker like in the movies?"

"That's part of it," she agreed. "But it's really good for them to have spies and soldiers that can get shot and keep going." She gave him a self depreciating little smile. "They're really interested in my healing."

"I really don't like that either," he muttered.

"It's not fun," she said, nodding.

"It's evil," she said. "That's — that's like bad guys the Avengers fight on the news. Or like bad guys in movies. That's a _lot_ for just you and me."

"Which is why in this case, it's better to hide," she said. "Know when to back off. It's a smart move sometimes."

Clint let out a breath and nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Sometimes, hiding is good."

"We'll just grab our stuff and change cars. I can sell this one for enough to get another one. If I think there's trouble, I'll change my hair. Don't worry though — it grows back really fast."

"You could be blonde like me," Clint offered. "Then you'd look more like you're my mo-" He paused. "Well. My um. My real mom."

"You know what? I think I will," she said, tipping her chin up. "It'll be more fun to sneak up on Jacques next time if he has no idea it's me."

Clint giggled delightedly. "He'll pee his pants!"

She started laughing outright at that. "Then we need to do that too," she said before she reached over to ruffle his hair again.

Clint grinned up at her crookedly. "Is it okay if I keep my hair, though?" he asked. "I like it."

"Yeah, that's fine. They don't know what you look like, and if we match, it'll be harder for them to spot me."

Clint grinned. "So I'm like — like camouflage!"

"That's exactly right. But in the business, we'd say you're my cover."

"I think I like that," Clint decided. "I'm gonna work really hard and learn knives, and when I get bigger I'll be _really_ good at fighting so I can help you kick their butts if they ever come back."

She smiled his way as they pulled into the next town over. "We'll have to teach you how to dance too," she said.

"Why?" Clint said, wrinkling his nose.

"Because you never give a sword to a man that can't dance," she said with a wink.

Clint giggled. "That doesn't make any sense, K."

"When you start to learn swordplay, it will," she promised. "You need to be light on your feet and quick-footed. The best practice for that is to dance."

"Okay, if you say so," he said in a tone that clearly said he wasn't so sure about it. "But I dunno why disco is gonna help that," he said, this time with a crooked smile.

"I'm not gonna teach you _disco_ ," she laughed. "I'll teach you to waltz. Ballroom. The more graceful styles that will help you dance with a sword around your enemies and sweep women off their feet."

"Okay," he said with a shrug. "If you say so."

They pulled into a parking lot of a motel, and she shook her head at him. "Why don't you gather up our stuff while I get a room? We'll spend a little time here. I'll bleach my hair out, get a different car … and then we'll move on. It's about time to check in on Barney anyhow."

Clint grinned brightly. "Oooh, yes! He'll have to see us _matching_!" he said before he positively _rushed_ off to go get his stuff.


	8. Blondes Have More Fun

**(A/N): CC, your reviews make me grin every single time. These two are such a fun unlikely pair. Seriously. I love them :D**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Blondes Have More Fun**

* * *

Clint was giggling to himself as he and K got to the next city where Barney's circus was supposed to stop. K had completely changed a _lot_ about herself to disguise herself so the bad guys wouldn't find her, and he was interested to see if Barney could recognize her.

And he couldn't wait to see if K would totally scare the pants off of Jacques. He was pretty sure she would, and it would be hilarious.

After all, even though he _knew_ K, he wasn't sure even he would be able to recognize her with how different she looked now. She had platinum blonde hair, and she looked like she was almost his big sister and not his foster mom ... or… whatever it was that they were doing when it wasn't in the system…. Anyway, she just looked like she was in college maybe, with band tee shirts like Bon Jovi and stuff and hoop earrings and red lipstick.

Plus, instead of the truck, they had a sedan. Clint was pretty sure no one was going to be able to figure it out.

He was almost bouncing with every step as they got to the circus, grinning up at K every once in a while as he did so. When she caught his gaze, he grinned outright and started to giggle. "Barney's gonna be _so confused."_

"It'll be hilarious," she agreed with a smirk.

He grinned brilliantly at her and shot her a thumbs up before they arrived at last to the familiar trailer, and Clint spotted Barney practicing close by with his throwing knives. And when he saw that Barney was hitting the yellow, he grinned delightedly and all but skipped over. "You're already so amazing at that, Barn!" he called out.

Barney jumped slightly in surprise, then set his knife aside so he could grin and rush over to Clint to ruffle his hair under his arm. "You always gotta make an entrance, huh?" he teased.

"Um, I just said that you were good at knives. I mean, you can see it." He pointed at the targets. "You're gonna be better than Jacques in no time!"

"Maybe," Barney said with a quiet smirk before he looked past Clint to where K was standing close by, and he immediately frowned. "What… did K ditch you?" he asked, a bit of a hard tone to his voice.

Clint shook his head quickly. "No! No, no. I didn't get ditched, I promise," he said quickly. "That's K!"

"Umm, Clint ... maybe we should get your eyes checked as well as your ears…"

Clint shoved Barney hard in the shoulder. "No, K just dyed her hair, that's all," he said. He glanced around the circus and then leaned in close to whisper, "We ran into some _bad_ men, so she is blonde now so they won't spot her." He grinned and straightened up. " _And_ we match now!" he added happily.

Barney frowned as he listened to Clint's explanation and made his way over to K to look her over more closely, his arms crossed over his chest before he did, at last, smile very lightly. "Hi, K."

"Hey, big brother extraordinaire," she said with a smirk.

"What's this about you running into some trouble?" Barney asked. "You know, I'm _nine_ and I can handle _knives_ and I'm starting on more sword stuff next week, so if you need somebody gone…"

"You're sweet to offer, but I took care of it just fine, thanks," she said before she made a point to kiss his cheek — and get a perfect red lip print there. "You can ask Clint. I handled them."

"It's true," Clint said, his eyes wide as he nodded seriously. "She took 'em down, and then we got outta Dodge."

Barney frowned between them. "You okay, Clint?"

"Uh-huh. I'm fine. I got to help K pick out her band shirts," he told Barney.

"Okay, well… if things get real hairy…"

"I offered to bring him to you already," K told him. "It's always his choice."

Barney raised an eyebrow Clint's way, but his younger brother just shrugged openly. "I like K," he said as if that was all the explanation he needed — and it really kind of was.

"Okay, well, you can always stick with me if you wanna," Barney told him.

Clint nodded seriously. "Yeah, I know. But maybe… maybe someplace with not Jacques?"

Barney smirked at that. "Soon as I get all trained up," he promised.

"Okay," Clint nodded. "Soon's that happens… _maybe_. But I like K."

"Okay." Barney nodded once and then turned back to his targets. "I gotta practice, okay? The ringmaster said if I keep at it, he'll add me to the show next season."

Clint beamed at that. "I'm not surprised," he said. "I'll see you after the show, then?"

"After my chores, yeah."

"Okay. Have fun, Barney!" Clint said, giving his brother a hug before he headed off with K to get some popcorn and do a little poking around… play a few carnival games…

Clint was particularly proud of the ring toss, which he ended up _nailing_ and which netted him a prize: a stuffed animal of his choice. He ended up picking out a unicorn and handing it to K with a grin.

"It's purple, and it's the closest I could find to a horse," he explained with a proud grin.

"It's perfect," she promised before she gave him a hug. "Every girl loves unicorns."

"And I love purple," he said. "So it works!"

K grinned at him as the two of them headed up to their seats, though she did pause when she saw Barney and Jacques clearly having an argument off to the side of the tent. Even without her enhanced senses, it was obvious what the fight was about, too, since Jacques was gesturing obviously to the red lipstick stain on Barney's cheek that he clearly hadn't even noticed.

"Hey Clint — I'll be right there — find a good spot, huh?" K said before she put her sunglasses on.

"Okay!" he called back, rushing off to find the best place that he could so they could see the full show.

She watched him go for just a moment so she had an idea of where he'd be, then she turned on her heel and made her way over to Barney and Jacques, not even trying to hide her approach or be sneaky about it.

When Jacques saw her headed over, he straightened up a bit and put on a warmer smile for her, shooing Barney with one hand as he did so. "You lost?"

She tipped her head slightly and took a couple of quick steps before she hit him square in the center of his chest and kicked his feet out from under him. "Manhandling the kid again?"

Jacques was gasping from the hit that was far harder than he thought it should have been. "What the- _you_ again?" he gasped out.

She slid her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. "I told you I'm not ignoring the kid."

"You've got some weird priorities, woman," he spit out. "I'm not allowed to discipline him, then?"

"Not if it involves raising a hand or pushing him around, no," she said.

Jacques shook his head as he got to his feet, holding his chest and glaring hard her way. "You're just coming up with new ways to annoy me, aren't you?" he sneered.

"No, I'm just trying to impress on you how to be decent to a _kid._ But if you want me to annoy you, I can be much more creative."

Jacques rolled his eyes. "And while you're lecturing me, I noticed you've abandoned your own charge. Negligence."

"He's holding our seats, actually," she said.

"Then you should join him," Jacques sneered.

"I will. Try not to be so jealous of the kid earning kisses already. He'll outstrip you by the time he's seventeen." She turned on her heel and headed back to where Clint was with her nose in the air, more or less blending into the crowd almost seamlessly.

Clint grinned when he saw her and waved her over. "Didja put the fear of God in Jacques again?" he asked with a spark of trouble in his gaze.

"Put the fear of somethin' into him," K said as she took her seat. "Punched him in the chest. Mighta helped him the rest of the way to the ground too."

Clint grinned at that. "Well, good. I think it helps Barney stay safe,"

"I hope so," she replied.

Clint held out the popcorn bag for her to steal some. "I wanna learn everything he's learning, so he can practice when he stays with us so he can get good _fast_ and leave Jacques," he said.

"I think I can arrange that," K agreed. "At least with shooting and throwing. Swordplay ... " She shrugged. "I know enough to start it up."

"Well, you said you were gonna teach me dance for that. We can start there — and Barney can teach me the rest, right?"

"Hopefully, yes," she said with a smirk. "But I don't do the same style that Jacques uses."

"Okay, well. That's okay," Clint said, clearly thinking it over. "I can be Robin Hood, and Barney can be Zorro."

K nodded her agreement. "And I'll be in the middle … short sword ready to go." She tipped her head to the side. "It's getting closer to fall. I should check with the ringmaster and see what the plans are for this ragtag group over the winter."

Clint grinned. "Yeah, we should… we should set something up so Barney can send us letters or postcards or something so we know where they're going every season."

"If they shut down for winter … we'll need to know where and when the spring season starts. Most circuses don't run in the winter."

"He can stay with u- I mean… can he _please_ stay with us at maybe like that cottage you said you have?" Clint asked, his eyes as wide as he could get them.

"Yeah, that's what I'd like to see. Give him a break from Jacques," K agreed. "But he's got to agree to it."

Clint nodded. "I'll ask him about it," he said, falling silent as the show started up in earnest, though K didn't miss that he was situated comfortably beside her, halfway leaned into her and almost snuggled up, absolutely content right where he was.

They'd seen the show a few times now, so now, the two of them were trading a few jokes back and forth and relaxed as they watched the acts, and as soon as the show was over, Clint rushed off to go find Barney, leaving K to find the ringmaster.

K watched Clint rush off and looked around the tents and trailers trying to figure out the best way to handle it. The fact was, she knew she didn't look like herself, and she was reasonably sure the man wouldn't recognize her as is.

So, she took the earrings off and wiped off the lipstick as she headed toward the ringmaster's trailer. On the way there, she plucked a blue denim shirt that someone had left hanging on the corner of a tent, just draped over the rope. She slipped it on and did her best to make it look like her usual attire, then slipped a baseball hat off of a passing circus-goer, holding it in her teeth as she pulled her hair up and then tucked it under the cap. Finally, she put her sunglasses on top of the hat, resting on the bill — and by the time she knocked on his door, it really wasn't that far off from normal. "I'm not sure you would remember me," she said when the man opened his door. "But I'd like to talk to you about Barney, Jacques' ah … assistant?"

The ringmaster glanced up with a frown for only a moment before she saw the recognition light up his gaze, and he smirked. "Course I remember you. Here to give Jacques another lesson?"

She let out a breath and smiled genuinely. "I may have had a chat with him before the show — though that's really not what I'm up to," she admitted. "Did he tell you about our agreement?"

"That you'd do a repeat performance if he raised a hand to the kid? Might've mentioned it."

"Yes. Well. I've been keeping track of your shows, and I know winter is an issue. So I have to ask. What happens to your performers when the snow flies?"

"Most people already have a place set up. For the ones that don't, we'll usually find 'em a place, motel or something, until the spring," he said with a shrug. "Nobody goes homeless, if that's what you're worried over."

She nodded at that. "I figured as much. I'm hoping Barney will winter with me," she said. "But if he does, I know I can't trust Jacques to give us the time and place for him to show up in the spring. Care to help a girl out?"

The ringmaster nodded slowly. "We've got our Oktoberfest finale in the Twin Cities, but if that gets snowed out, the one before is in Kansas City."

"And where are you starting up come spring?"

"We always start close to Chicago — that many people, it's a good indicator what the turnout's gonna be for the rest of the year if we're thinking about taking on another act."

She nodded at that. "If it's alright, I'd like those dates. I can get him to the grounds a few days or a week ahead if that would work for you."

He nodded and quickly scribbled down what she needed, handing it to her on the back of a flyer. "I don't mind telling you I'm glad that kid has someone looking out for him. Jacques and his friends… I'd be glad to replace them if I could find someone as skilled. Hoping that kid will stay on."

"I can see why you don't though," she said, nodding. "He's quite the showman, but man. Talk about needing an attitude adjustment."

He chuckled. "When I started this circus, it was more people like our acrobats," he said. "But, you know. Show business."

"I have only heard," K said. "Thanks. This will help me talk him into it. Last thing I want to see is the kid stuck near Jacques all winter with no way to be sure he's alright."

The ringmaster nodded. "Good luck, lady. I mean it. Jacques doesn't take to people often, but when he does, they get pulled into his orbit. Fast."

"His brother is with me," she told him. "That's gotta help me out."

"Thought they liked to keep siblings together. How'd you get one and not the other, anyway?" the ringmaster asked, genuinely sounding curious.

"Dumb luck. Kids were separated. Had a string of bad fosters, from what I understand. Abusive jackasses that the kids fought back."

"Tracks with how Barney's been here," the ringmaster said with a nod. "Still don't know that he trusts me, but he warmed right up to our bearded lady, believe it or not."

"I'm sure she's a doll," K said. "And I think anyone that tries to be kind gets a decent response from them. Let me know if anyone else is giving him trouble, please."

The ringmaster nodded. "I'll see you later, then. Let me know if you're going to put Jacques on the ground — I love a good show. Might even sell tickets," he chuckled.

"I never know when that's going to happen," she said with a smirk. "Hopefully, he just learns his lesson and I don't have to."

"You're some kinda optimist," he laughed. "We should hire you on as a fortune teller. People love to hear the best kinds of futures."

"Yeah, I'm … not a performer," she said, shrugging openly. "But if I was, it'd sure be easier to make that boy squirm."

The ringmaster smirked at that. "I don't believe I caught your name, miss."

"K is fine," she said. "That's what most people call me, anyhow." She offered him her hand.

"Sounds like a performer to me," he teased lightly as he took her hand to shake it.

"Well if the act was slapping around your weapons master, I could probably do that twice a week," she laughed.

"I'll let you know if we can market it," he chuckled. "See you around, K. Good luck with those boys. Most of us are rooting for 'em."

She flashed him a brilliant smile and then waved with her fingertips as she turned to find the boys. They had to be together, and she knew that Jacques wouldn't be far from pulling Barney in to do more of his work. She slipped the shirt off and hung it back where she found it, then started following the scent trails that marked where the boys had gone until she found them picking up the trash people had left in the stands. And as boys tended to do, they had turned it into a competition, trying to clear out their sections first.

She leaned against a post and crossed her arms as she watched them race — both accusing the other of cheating as they rushed through their task until Barney raised his arms in triumph at finishing his section three rows ahead of Clint. "You got a minute, Barney?" K called out as he was still laughing.

Barney grinned at K and slid over to her. "You can't take his side — _he_ started throwing trash on my side first!" `

"I'm not taking anyone's side," she said with a crooked smirk. "I wanted to talk to you about this winter. I just got back from talking to the ringmaster, and I want to invite you again to join us for the winter. I have the dates and the location of both the last shows this season and the first one next season. He wants you back, so if you go with us, I'll get you back in plenty of time."

Barney's eyes widened, and he glanced back over his shoulder at Clint before he turned back to K and nodded seriously. "Clint said he wanted to have Christmas with me," he said. "But I'd have to make sure I practice _every day,_ or Jacques won't let me go next year if I get sloppy," he warned.

"Tell you what," K said, leaning toward him. "I'll make sure you perfect your throwing, and we'll start on some other stuff too. I've got the perfect spot for a target range and a garage that's long enough that you can throw even if it's snowing out."

"That would be great, 'cause Clint wants to be Robin Hood when he grows up," Barney laughed, then leaned forward. "He thinks Robin Hood is _real_."

"He was … he just wasn't as fantastic as the story says," K told him, reaching out to mess up his hair too.

Barney ducked away from her and pulled a face. "Hey, no, I _like_ my hair the way it is, thankyouverymuch."

"I couldn't help it," she said, holding both hands up. "I needed to see if your hair did the same thing Clint's does … which. It does. By the way."

"What's that?" Clint asked as he came all but skidding over to join the conversation, not about to be left out.

"Sticks up in the best ways possible," K said, messing up Clint's hair before he could stop her. "I was just asking Barney if he wanted to spend the winter with us."

"Didja say yes, Barn?" Clint asked, spinning to face his brother. "Didja?"

Barney grinned and nodded. "Yeah. Ringmaster said I could."

"Great!" Clint said, positively giggling with delight.

Barney smirked at him crookedly. "Yeah, well, couldn't miss Christmas _and_ my little brother's birthday, right?"

"Ooh, yeah. I'm gonna be seven, and that's important."

"Sure thing, Clint," Barney laughed before he turned to K. "Start of December, that's when he's seven. He might not've told you, but you gotta give him a cake like you did me so it's fair."

"Just gotta know his favorite kind," K said.

"I like yellow cake," Clint sang out happily, matting his hair back down the way he liked it. "But I also like chocolate with chocolate icing."

"Sounds like a prime candidate for a checkerboard cake to me," K said.

"Oh yeah, you're totally getting spoiled," Barney teased Clint.

"Am not!"

"You so are. You're gonna be a spoiled brat in no time," Barney insisted.

"Am _not_!"

"Real witty retort, Clint," Barney laughed.

"Shut up, Barney."

"Nope. Not a chance."

"We'll see you for the last few shows for sure, Barney," K said, unable to stop the smile at the boys' back and forth.

"Maybe I'll be in one of 'em by then," Barney said. "I might be in the ring for just a little while giving Jacques his weapons!"

"You'll outshine him in no time," she said decisively.

"Probably why you're not already in the show," Clint agreed. "He's scared."

Barney smirked. "Yeah, probably. But don't tell him I said so."

"Yeah, no worries there. He's an idiot and a jerk," Clint swore.

"Did you try out that swear word?" K asked as she set the baseball hat on a garbage can and shook her hair out.

Barney grinned and nodded. "He had no idea what it was, and he was really mad because he felt stupid!" he giggled. "But I told him I had learned it outside the circus and that it was Swedish and he just kind of huffed like he couldn't deal with it."

"He's a baby," Clint said with relish.

"Yeah, but he's real good with swords, so you guys can't, you know, _totally_ wreck him, okay?" Barney said, looking totally serious. "I don't want him to quit on me!"

"Don't worry," K said, shifting into a more open position. "If I was going to totally wreck him, he'd already be wrecked. He's been lucky so far."

"It's 'cause she likes you and wants you to be the best weapons master, right?" Clint said, grinning K's way.

"I want you both to be happy. And if being the best weapons master does it — then I won't destroy that for you."

"Thanks, K," Barney said with a small smile.

"Yeah, thanks, Mom," Clint sang out with a grin.

She gave him a little smirk and pulled him into a one armed hug. "I should get out of your way so you can finish your work."

"Okay. I'll come find you when I'm done, okay?" Clint said, grinning up at her.

"Sure thing," she replied. "Have fun, boys."


	9. There's No Place Like Home

**Notes: Oh yes. The 'mom'ing was subtle, but it was there, and K totally isn't about to blow his very quiet acceptance by pointing it out. She knows it's a big deal 3**

 **And omg. Blonde K is a thing of beauty. I agree 100%.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9: There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays**

* * *

There was still a pretty good stretch of time before the end of the season, and the truth was that K needed to take stock of the cottage before they hunkered down for the winter, so she and Clint started the drive north almost as soon as they left the circus.

She didn't say exactly where they were going — other than simply mentioning that they needed to make sure that things were in order at the cottage. "We'll make sure it's all aired out and that we don't have like … a porcupine chewing on the porch. Little things," K told him as they started to snake down the wooded dirt two tracks in the middle of the forests.

"Whatcha gonna do to the porcupine if it _is_?" Clint asked.

"Kill it if it won't stay gone," she said. "They're like huge rats with spikes. They're everywhere, and if they're causing trouble, they'll just come back if they think they can get away with it. Stubborn little prickly things."

"Kinda like you and me, huh?" Clint said with a crooked smile.

"We are way smarter than porcupines, sweetheart."

"Yeah, but we're stubborn, and my hair is kinda sorta spiky when you play with it," he pointed out.

"I suppose that's true enough," she said. They went a little way further — and Clint only saw the road just before she turned onto it for all the overgrowth that there was blocking the path. But once they got around the corner, the road cleared up again and it was a rocky tight path all the way up to a little clearing that had more ferns than grass. "So, this is it," she said, gesturing to the little log house with a water wheel attached to the side of it. "It was an old mill a hundred years ago or so … the drop off to the lake is something else — so watch your step."

"Wow," Clint whispered, his eyes wide. "Wow. This … this is the biggest house I think I've ever lived in that wasn't a farm." He grinned up at K. "Can I pick my room first? Please? Before Barney gets here?"

"Yep, once we get inside, I'll show you around," she promised. "My room is on the main floor. There are two bedrooms upstairs — and I promise it stays nice and warm up there all winter."

"Thanks!" Clint said, grinning even wider as he took it in. "Maybe when it's not so cold we can come here and swim in the lake, too. That would be pretty cool. I'm not a very good swimmer, but I bet I can learn."

"The water is cold most of the time here, but if you can stand it — it's good to float in."

Clint tipped his head to the side as he considered it before he nodded slowly. "I bet I could. If I had, like, lots of blankets and a fire waiting for me when I got out," he decided.

She smirked at him and parked the car before gesturing to the cottage. "Let's go. I'll need to make a big list for groceries and whatnot."

Clint grinned and all but scrambled out of the car, with Sicem right beside him clearly excited to be running with Clint and excited that Clint was excited. Clint started to laugh as it turned into a race with the dog, and the two of them rushed up to the porch, with Sicem bounding around Clint before Clint got a hold of him — and the laughing and licking started up before K could get to the porch to let them in.

She shook her head at both of them and then unlocked the door, simply pushing it open for the two of them to tumble in. Sicem did a few spins with his tongue hanging out and then trotted over to the fireplace and dropped down in front of it, clearly happy to be back home when he rolled onto his back and started to make little groaning noises as he stretched.

Clint started giggling when he saw it. "I think Sicem likes it here," he whispered.

"He likes it anywhere that he can stretch out in front of a fire," K said, stepping in behind him and then closing the door. "So … the grand tour. To your right, the kitchen … etcetera. Your left, my room and the bathroom. Living room ahead … little bit of a view if you're into that kind of thing … and then upstairs … the two rooms for you to pick from."

Clint grinned at that before he simply dashed upstairs to go see what kinds of rooms there were, bouncing around the hall. He'd _never_ had his own room before — not that he could remember anyway — and he almost didn't know what to do with himself looking between the two rooms. Ultimately, he decided on the room that was closest to the hall so he could be closer to K if he needed to help or if he needed help or something.

"Will that do, young Barton?" K called up.

She could hear him giggling even from where she was. "This is amazing!" he called back down, clearly _thrilled_.

"Take your time exploring," she called up. "I'm just going to start making lists."

"Okay!" Clint called back down before he went right back to his excited exploring, looking through the cottage and the whole bed that was _just his_ and the whole box of belts that she'd won, just like she said, and some books and a closet full of clothes… it was all interesting, but he was _more_ interested in playing with Sicem and going outside and being with K, really.

When he got downstairs, K was going through the cabinets, and he climbed up into a chair at the old wooden table to grin at her, leaning forward with wide eyes. "I've never had a _room_ before," he said.

"No?" she asked turning to look at him.

He shook his head. "No, I always had to share with Barney or else one of my foster brothers," he explained.

"I had to share with my sister too. That's how it usually works."

Clint nodded seriously. "It's really _big_ ," he said. "All that space and just little bitty _me_ in it!" He grinned. "It's _so_ cool."

"Think of how I feel when I'm all alone here," she said. "It's better with people around."

"Uh-huh," he agreed fervently. "I like people. It's no fun being by yourself." He watched her work for a moment with his head tipped to the side. "Can I help?"

"Sure," she said, gesturing to the room at large. "What do you think we'll need?"

"Umm… chocolate for my cake," he said, which had K grinning hearing that was top of the list. "And we definitely gotta make sure that we got bones and stuff for Sicem. And… and maybe some stuff for campfires for when it's not snowy and too cold to go out… and … and I _guess_ we should get vegetables because I heard you're s'pposed to do that."

"I've heard that too," she said, nodding to herself as she added a few things to her list. "I think I've got most of it figured out. And I have a neighbor that'll check in every few weeks … But if we handle this list and put it all away, we'll be in good shape, I think. Deer season will be on soon for archery ... maybe I'll get one for the freezer …"

"I wanna learn that too," Clint said in an awed whisper.

"What? Deer hunting? Or just hunting in general?"

"Umm, yes?" Clint said with a grin. "And I wanna shoot archery. I wanna be an archer."

"I have a very old bow here — but it's probably too much to pull back to start with." K tipped her head to the side. "Pretty sure I can find you one, though."

"That would be _amazing_ ," he said, still looking completely awed.

"Stuff like that is easy to come by around here," she said. "It's almost a point of pride to know this stuff."

"So we can find a grizzled old prospector and get his stuff," Clint teased.

"Might not be too far off from the truth," she laughed. "But I was thinking one of the guys probably has a son that's moved up to the next step, archery wise."

Clint nodded. "Hand-me-down bow," he said, nodding. "Yeah, I like it. Then we can get a me-sized one!"

"We'll get as many as you need as you get bigger," she said. "And I think ... you should probably see where you'll be learning to shoot." She started toward the front door and then led the way around the corner of the house to what looked almost like a barn — but when she opened the doors, it was clear she'd been using it for storage more than anything else. And there were a few 'toys' stashed around and covered in tarps. "I think we can clear out a lane over here," K said, gesturing to the most open section of the building.

Clint's eyes were wide as he looked it over before he dashed over to K to wrap her up in a hug. "Thanks. Thanks _so_ much," he whispered, sounding almost overwhelmed.

"You're very welcome," she said, wrapping him up tight. "We'll all use it."

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, for sure. We can all share," he said, though he hadn't let go of her at all. "I just… thanks."

"Not a problem," she replied, snuggling him a little better. "What we should do now is just call it a day and rest up. The drive into town to shop is a long one — and you should think about what color blanket your brother needs. I know you'll want purple …"

"Barney likes red," Clint said, nodding seriously.

"Easy enough then," K said.

Clint grinned up at her the whole way back to the cottage, still looking almost overwhelmed and clearly riding a high as they headed inside. He could hardly believe that he had his own room, that he had K, that Barney was going to come… things were looking _amazing,_ and he just couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

He was still grinning all the way up through setting up in his _new room_ before he climbed in to go to sleep… though that, it turned out, was not going to be as easy as he'd like.

Once the lights were all out and the excitement had died down, Clint realized for the first time how _empty_ it was… and how dark it was. And how _not_ quiet it was with the occasional wolf or owl or other sounds outside his window.

Clint frowned as he pulled his blankets up to his nose and tried to tuck into them a little better. He didn't want K to think that he couldn't handle it… or that he didn't like the cottage… and he didn't want Barney to call him a baby if he came and found out that Clint couldn't handle being by himself.

Finally, Clint decided that it would be better to go downstairs and just walk around for a little bit and … he wasn't sure what he would do. He didn't want to wake up K, but he clearly wasn't going to get any sleep, so he might as well _do_ something, right?

But when he got downstairs, it wasn't K but Sicem who noticed him, and Clint couldn't help but smile as he came over to scratch Sicem's tummy and ears. And as soon as he sat down on the couch, Sicem curled up right with him, like they were camping — and the next thing Clint knew, he was out like a light.

The next morning, K was up early as usual, and when she stepped out of her room, she couldn't possibly miss the fact that Clint was curled up, half draped over Sicem on the couch. She frowned when she saw them and made her way over to carefully cover them up with a light blanket before she went to the kitchen to start up some breakfast. If the kid needed the dog to relax … then she'd make sure that the dog went with him so he could sleep in a bed for a change.

When Clint did wake up, he looked a little embarrassed as he came into the kitchen, bedheaded and smelling like Sicem. "Hi," he said quietly.

"Morning sunshine. Wolves keep you up?" K asked with her usual pleasant expression.

Clint glanced up at her and then nodded softly. "It's… pretty loud out there," he said. "And not, at the same time."

"Yeah, it's quiet out here most of the time, but when the pack gets halfway close, they are loud." She tipped her chin up at Sicem, who was trailing behind Clint and yawning. "He won't howl if he's got someone to curl into at night. He doesn't like the wolves."

"That makes two of us," Clint muttered, his shoulders drawn up.

"The pack won't clear out for a week anyhow. You should just take him up to your room with you. If he starts howling, the wolves only get worse — and closer."

Clint blinked for a moment, his eyes wide, before he quickly nodded. "Yeah, yeah I think… I think that's a good idea," he said, glancing at Sicem. "Yeah. He can share my bed. It's big enough for, like, two of me anyway."

"Perfect. I appreciate it. Thanks." She gave him another little smile, then offered him some pancakes. "Hungry yet?"

He grinned up at her and nodded. "Uh-huh," he said. "I like when you make pancakes."

"Then it's your lucky morning," she said.

"Well, we gotta have a good breakfast before we drive to go get more food, right?" Clint said with a little smirk. "Driving is really tiring…."

"Gotta eat food to get food," she agreed. "And shopping sucks."

"I can steal stuff if we need it," Clint said, leaning forward seriously. "I mean, when we don't got money."

"We'd still have to go to the store," she said. "And we'll have money. No need to worry about that."

"Okay, but just so you know… I'm real good at it," Clint told her earnestly.

"Good to know," she said then pushed a plate toward him.


	10. Hawkeye, Get Your Bow

**Notes: Yeah, this sweet little boy has been through quite a lot, huh? But I have to agree, CC: he definitely has the best dog ever.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Hawkeye, Get Your Bow**

* * *

Clint hadn't heard K get up and leave that morning, but she must have gone while he was dead to the world asleep, because by the time he emerged from his room, bedheaded and rubbing his eyes and dragging his feet, K was up, breakfast was ready… and there was a bow on the table.

Clint's eyes went wide when he saw it, and he quickly rushed over to see it. "You found me a hand-me-down," he said, gently reaching out to touch the bow.

K nodded lightly. "I told you — around here, it wasn't hard to find someone with an old bow."

"So, can I shoot it?" Clint asked.

"Won't do you a bit of good if you don't," she pointed out. "Just need to set up the target and walk you through the whole thing."

Clint grinned at that, and once he had his sights set on the bow, he practically wolfed down his breakfast at lightning speed, which had K shaking her head and smirking to herself at his enthusiasm when he was practically bouncing in place.

Sicem had picked up on Clint's enthusiasm, too, crouching down and wagging his tail and looking ready to pounce as soon as Clint got up before he simply started bounding around Clint's ankles all the way toward the barn.

Once they got out there, though, before Clint could start Robin Hood-ing, K made sure to set down some ground rules for the range. She took the time to show him how to hold the bow not just when he was shooting but when he was carrying it around, making sure to emphasize that he should _never_ pick it up by the string or whack it against anything — or it would damage the bow and the wood could literally explode.

Which, of course, Clint thought was _awesome_ , but he nodded all the same and swore to be very, very, _very_ careful with the bow.

She showed him how to string the bow — the person who had owned it had a small red nock in the string to show him where to put his arrow — and where to put his hands as well. He wasn't supposed to draw the string back without an arrow, either — or he'd do a 'dry fire' and might hurt the bow.

Beginning bows were kind of… fragile.

"Don't worry about getting a bullseye to start with," K said as she strung an arrow on her bow — which was a lot more sturdy-looking than the one Clint was starting with. "Just try to hit the target at all, but aim for the center, of course." She pulled the string back so that Clint could see the way she positioned herself. "Find a spot you like … always go to it. I like to use the spot right by my ear and touch it with my thumb for my anchor point."

Clint nodded, watching her as she drew her bow back before he copied her movements, still grinning to himself as he set his sights on the target down the line.

"Mind your breathing," she said, her voice getting a little more even. "And release when you let out all your breath."

Clint wasn't sure why she wanted him to do that, but he followed the directions all the same, taking a huge breath and then letting it out at once at the same time he released his arrow…

… which was definitely not anywhere near the target. In fact, he hit the one beside it that K was aiming for.

He grinned sheepishly , turning toward K to watch as she released her own arrow, which of course hit the yellow middle of the target. And once she turned his way, he gave her a self-deprecating sort of smile. "We can totally say I was aiming for yours, right? I got on the black!"

"Totally," she agreed with a smirk. "It takes some time, and a ton of practice, but go ahead and use everything in your quiver before we go downrange. Try and relax a little. That will help."

"I'm just really excited," he admitted, smiling up at her.

"Oh, I know — but you have to relax, or you won't 'kill' your target."

Clint nodded, though before he strung his next arrow, he shot her a crooked smirk. "Maybe we should put faces on 'em instead… like… maybe… Jacques."

"Yeah? You wanna shoot him that badly?" she asked.

"He hit my big brother," Clint said. "Yeah."

She nodded at that. "And here I was … just planning on cutting important muscle groups that would screw up his career."

"That's mean, but it's not as much fun," Clint told her. "And I dunno about muscles and stuff. I just wanna Robin Hood him."

"Ah, well, I guess we'll need to teach you about anatomy too," she said. "Because you don't want to kill someone if you can help it. Even if it's an accident."

Clint nodded. "Yeah, I don't wanna hurt anybody," he said seriously. "Except… except maybe those bad guys that were gonna grab you. And Jacques," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"Leave the nasty stuff to me," she said. "Go ahead and learn how to stop them. But I don't want you doing anything that you'll regret later."

Clint nodded thoughtfully before he raised his bow again and narrowed his eyes at the target. "Okay, if you say so," he said quietly before he let the arrow go, this time a little closer to his own target, though he ended up hitting the wood of the barn between the two targets.

"Progress toward your own," K said, taking a moment to check his stance and then turned his arrow around so the third fletching was down. "Might make it easier to see your target that way."

"Ooh, yeah, I didn't think about that," Clint said. He quickly checked to make sure that he was aiming right, glancing over at K, before he tried again, catching the edge of the target — but that was enough at least to get him grinning. "I hit it!"

"I am not surprised," She said before she ruffled his hair. "You'll have this down in no time."

Clint grinned and patted down his hair. "How come you like my head so much, huh?" he asked.

"I love yellow," she said in her most ridiculous voice. "And you're like a baby chick with this fluffy yellow fuzz."

"I am not," he grumbled.

"I love baby chicks," she said, smiling crookedly at him. "Peep peep."

"M _-o-o-_ m." He scrunched up his nose at her. "I'm not a baby chick!"

"You're not, no," she agreed, smiling at him. "Ready to keep going, Robin of Loxley?"

He nodded at that, much happier with that nickname than the other one. "Does that make you ummm…. Little John, maybe?"

"Um … I'll take Maid Marian," she said, shaking her head.

"Okay, but that's a little weird, because she doesn't do much fighting in the stories, and you're _really good at it_."

"That you know of," K said, her hand on her hip. "Remember, the stories were written by _boys_. Probably had issues showing the princess kicking tail all over Sherwood forest."

"Oh, I didn't think about that," Clint said, nodding thoughtfully. "I guess that makes sense. Especially if they were idiots like those cowboys who thought you couldn't ride."

"Well, and my family goes back to Vikings," she said. "And there were almost as many Viking ladies kicking butt as there were Viking men."

"Is that how come you're so good at kicking butt?" Clint asked as he nocked another arrow. "You're a Viking?"

K tipped her head to the side. "Let's go with yes," she said, nodding. "There haven't been Vikings for hundreds of years, but … sure. I'll bring it back."

"I think that's really, really cool," Clint said. "Maybe you can be a Viking and I can be Robin — and maybe they teamed up!"

"To overthrow English royalty? Likely," she agreed.

He grinned at that. "How come you know so much cool stuff, K?"

"I've read a _lot_ , and I'm old. Remember?"

He nodded. "I'm… I'm not real good at reading," he admitted before he let an arrow fly — once again hitting the wood away from his target.

"Can't be better at anything without practice," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "I didn't really… go to school a lot. I kept running away," he said, looking a bit embarrassed by it.

"That's okay," she said. "You don't need to worry about that right now. We'll figure it out and get you going. You should get a diploma at least."

"Can I get a diploma in archery?" he asked with a crooked grin.

"If you could, I'd sign you up right now."

Clint smiled at that as he took out his last arrow. "I'd get all A's," he said with a determined little nod before he let that one fly, catching the edge of the target again. "I mean… once I practiced a little more…"

"This is day one," K pointed out. "There are people that do this for weeks and never hit the paper."

"Well, I got a real good teacher," Clint said, grinning up at her. "Much better than they got, I bet."

"Yes and no," she said. "Some people just don't get it. Not everyone can do anything."

"I guess so," Clint said, frowning a bit before he shrugged and followed K down the range to pick up his arrows. K made sure to show him how to get them out without breaking them, too, twisting her wrist with the motion, and he was grinning by the time he got his quiver reloaded.

The next five shots, though, had him a little frustrated, because even though he was hitting the edge of the target, he wasn't getting any closer in than the white rings — even if they were all close together.

But K pointed out that it was a good group — solid and in the same spot. "You're not pulling your arm back far enough. That'll tilt you to the left every time."

Clint nodded, looking even more determined, before he went down to the end of the range to retrieve his arrows, trying to get the stance a little better, making a 't' with his shoulders like K suggested.

It helped, and by the time Clint was getting tired enough that he was back to shooting to the left again, he had at least gotten on the blue, though he would have been happier if it was red or even yellow, like K got.

"You're getting tired," she said. "Probably ought to stop for today. You're going to be sore tomorrow."

"Yeah, I guess," Clint said, though it was obvious he didn't want to stop. "But this is really fun."

"You know … you can do this anytime you want now that you know where it is and how to get going on it …"

"I can?" Clint brightened up immediately, his eyes wide. "You mean it?"

"Hey. That's why I got the bow for you," she said.

"Yeah, but I thought maybe you… were s'pposed to supervise or something…"

"It's not like I have a schedule," K said. "I can come out with you whenever until you're comfortable — and then you can come out on your own."

"That would be really great," Clint said, nodding seriously. "And then I could show Barney I can get on the target!"

"See? Not bad, right?"

"I'm gonna be Robin Hood in no time," he agreed with a little laugh.

"You sure are, kiddo. Now … how about I take you through the woods a little bit?"

"Yes, please!" he said, bouncing again now that he had something new to be excited about

She shook her head at him and they headed toward the house to put away the bow and arrows and for K to pick up the shotgun before they started to walk through the forest with Sicem trotting ahead of them. K tipped her head his way and let her voice drop lower. "If Sicem can flush a partridge or two, we'll be set for dinner."

Clint nodded, a thoughtful sort of look crossing over his face before he giggled and shot her a smirk that meant all kinds of trouble. "I thought you liked baby birds. You really gonna kill one?"

"These are grown birds — and they are tasty," she said.

They didn't get much further before it sounded like a chicken exploded out of the underbrush, and a second later, K took the shot and Sicem darted into the ferns to find the bird. He emerged a short while later with his head held high and the little brown bird in his mouth.

Clint couldn't help but grin when he saw how proud Sicem looked. "Good boy, Sicem," he called out, which only had Sicem wagging his tail a little harder and looking pleased with himself.

"Just one more and we'll have dinner," K said. "Two if we give one to Sicem."

"We should let him have one," Clint said, rubbing Sicem's ears as K tucked away the first bird. "Look at him, Mom. He's a good dog," he added, though he was by that point mostly just spoiling the dog, who was more than happy to get scratches.

"He is," K agreed. "And I try to give him one. If nothing else, he gets the bones and the meat I don't like."

"He can have my bones too," Clint said.

The path they took brought them around the lake and through a cedar stand that turned into tall white birch trees, and shortly after that, the trail opened up next to a waterfall that led right down to a rocky shoreline on Lake Superior. "So we're pretty far out now," she said. "About two miles to get back…"

"That is pretty far," Clint said, his eyes wide, though he was grinning as he looked around the shore and the waterfall. "How come you got such a pretty house?"

"I like pretty things," she said. "Don't you?"

"I guess so," he said. "I like the waterfall too."

"There are a lot of them around here," she said. "Very pretty when it's frozen over."

"Oooh, yeah, I bet when it's all snowy and icy, everything looks amazing," Clint agreed, looking around the area and clearly picturing what it would look like in the winter, one eye shut as he did so.

"Mmmhmm," she agreed, nodding her head. "We'll have to get you boys some snowshoes and cross country skis."

"You already got some for you, huh?"

"I do," K replied. "You need them out here."

"That makes sense," Clint said as he started to climb up on some of the rocks, grinning to himself as he found handholds to get higher. "I'm gonna find the top of this thing while you and Sicem hunt. I bet I can get all the way up!" he called over his shoulder, already scrambling up a little higher as he did so.

"You won't have too far to go," K called back. "But we'll just wait for you. Give the birds a chance to settle in again."

"Scaredy birds!" he giggled.

She smirked up at hm for that and leaned against a tree, which gave Sicem a chance to head over and lay down next to her with his head in her lap. It was peaceful anyhow — listening to the waterfall and watching the waves.

When Clint finally came back down again, he was grinning and had mud stains down most of his left side where he'd slide a little bit — and a little mud on his cheek. "You gotta come up there with me sometime, because it's really cool!" he told her. "You can see right down the _whole_ waterfall!"

"If you like that, I'll have to take you to the mountains a little west of here," K said, one eye closed as she looked up at him.

"We can do that maybe after we have Christmas and stuff with Barney," Clint agreed with a grin. "I like traveling with you!"

"Yeah, probably won't be until springtime," K said. "Most of the trails are only good for snowmobiles and serious cross country skiers that time of year."

Clint nodded at that. "Okay," he said. "We'll do that later, when Barney's at the circus. And … and we gotta take some Polaroids to bring back for him so he can see too!"

"We can do that — or send him a postcard," she said. "They have postcards of Lake Of The Clouds — which is where we'd be going."

"That sounds like a made-up place," Clint said, laughing to himself at his own little joke.

"It's not," she promised. "It's a big, flat lake in the middle of the Porcupine Mountains — way up high."

Clint grinned crookedly at K. "Somewhere over the rainbow?"

"Tell you what," K said, shaking her head at him. "We can go before all the leaves fall off the trees — that's when it's prettiest anyhow."

"But… we just got all set up here!"

"It's just an hour away," she laughed. "We can go for a day and come back."

"Okay, good, because I like it here," he said, nodding along happily.

The two of them headed back toward the cottage, and on the way, Sicem flushed the two birds they were hoping for. And once they'd gotten them tucked away, he kept flushing them out too — cracking up Clint every time the noisy birds exploded from the underbrush.

Still, Clint was getting pretty worn out by the time they got back home and K started up dinner, and he wound up curling up on the couch with Sicem and playing with him for a while until the food was ready — yawning all the way up to the table.

"Can we go to the cloud place tomorrow?" he asked K as he climbed into his seat. "Since you said I would be sore from archery, I wanna do something else maybe."

"Sure," K said. "We'll get up early, pack a picnic and head out," she said. "It'll take some time to hike up to it, but it'll be worth it."

"My feet're gonna get really tired living out here," he said with a little smirk.

"Maybe," K said. "But you'll get strong and be able to keep going when everyone else craps out."

"You think so?" Clint asked, one eyebrow raised. "I'm pretty small…."

"That's the best time to start. When you're small and have energy," K said.

"But you're old and you don't get tired," Clint pointed out.

"When I was little, I used to get tired," she said with a little frown. "We'd go out on hikes, and I'd have to get carried back."

"Really?" Clint scrunched up his nose. "That doesn't sound like you."

"I was a little kid," K said, shaking her head. "I didn't get to be like … _this_ until I was almost ten."

Clint let out a low whistle. "Do you think I'm gonna take that long before I get strong?" he asked.

"Probably not," she said thoughtfully. "I was a really sick, skinny little thing."

Clint tipped his head her way before he rushed over and hugged her. "It's okay," he said quietly. "I'm pretty small, and I got a broken ear, so we can match."

K couldn't stop the smile as she wrapped him up just as tightly as he was hugging her. "You're a sweet kid, you know that?"

"You keep saying that," he said with a small smile.

"Well, you keep proving that."

Clint grinned at her and then gave her another hug. "Love you too," he said quietly.


	11. Make a Deal with the Devil

**(A/N): Oh man. I hadn't even thought about the big brothering when it comes to Katie-Kate because that's so far down the line... omg. Now I AM thinking about it and it's hilarious...**

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Make a Deal with the Devil**

* * *

The circus' last performance couldn't come quickly enough for Clint's tastes — he was counting down the days until they got to go pick up Barney. And of course, they got there a few days early so that they could be sure they would catch him before everyone split and went their separate ways.

By the time the circus arrived, Clint couldn't wait for the performance to be _over._ He just wanted to bring Barney back home with him so they could hang out for more than just a little while at a time — and he wanted to tell his big brother all about exploring with K and to show him around the cottage and the area around it and… he just couldn't wait.

He spotted Barney as he was helping the others set up, and Clint all but skipped over to where his brother was. By that point, most of the circus performers knew who Clint was and were used to him helping his brother with his chores, so they didn't say anything as Clint slid in beside Barney and started to help him unload.

"Guess what!" he all but sang to Barney.

"Chicken butt," Barney said without missing a beat.

Clint laughed and shook his head. "No. I saw a _bear_!"

Barney raised an eyebrow at Clint. "Yeah?"

"Yeah!" He grinned. "Me and K went out on the trails and we were hiking and this huge bear was on the path and he _stood up_ when he saw us!"

At that, Barney turned to face Clint better. "No kidding?"

Clint nodded. "It was kinda scary at first, but then it was pretty cool," he said with obvious relish. "Maybe we can see a bear while you're with us!"

Barney frowned and glanced back down at his hands. "Yeah… I dunno, Clint."

"What?"

"Well, it's a real long time for me to not be working with Jacques…"

Clint's entire expression fell as he stared at his brother. "But… but you said…."

"Yeah, I know," Barney said without looking up. "But Jacques said—"

"That's not fair!" Clint said, obviously getting worked up to an honest-to-goodness tantrum.

"I have a target range," K said, trying to cut off this nonsense at the pass. "And if I have to, I can throw for you so you know I'm not leading you astray."

"I dunno," Barney said quietly.

"What? Don't think I can do it?" K asked, tipping her chin up with her hands on her hips. "I'll arm wrestle him too."

Barney couldn't help but smirk at that. "No… I bet you can. But I gotta get Jacques' permission — or he might not teach me in the spring," he explained.

"You've talked to him already?" K asked gently. "Because if you have, then the next step is for me to ask nicely."

Barney bit his lip and then nodded. "He said no," he admitted.

She didn't even nod before she simply started toward his trailer. "Be back in two shakes." She took a moment to apply her lipstick again on her way across the grounds and was sure to try and push the growl down as she relaxed her posture and knocked, honestly deciding to go for 'nice' and see where that went.

When Jacques opened the door, he scowled when he saw K. "You're back."

"I am," she said in a relaxed tone. "And I'd like a peace treaty."

"That's a change."

"Yeah, well … the fact remains that we need to talk, and I'd like to not have this as a confrontation every time."

Jacques crossed his arms as he leaned on the doorframe. "What do you want?"

"I'd like to free up your off season, frankly," she replied.

Jacques shook his head. "I already told the kid no."

"And that was when he was asking you," she said. "Now _I'm_ asking you. He'll have access to a target range whenever he wants it."

"Look, woman, it was one thing when you're just poking your nose in here, but I'm training the kid, and I can't trust that kind of thing to you just because you set up some papers for him to shoot," Jacque said with a sneer.

"What do I need to do to prove to you he won't lose any ground?" K asked. "Do you want me to throw for you?"

"Might be interesting," Jacques said. "See if you're as good as you think you are."

"Oh, I am," she said, arching one eyebrow. "Whenever you're ready, let's go. Just tell me what you want me to hit and what you want me to hit it with."

Jacques considered her for a long moment before he finally nodded. "The kid's got a set of knives. You can use his — and he'll show you where the targets are."

"I'm not doing this without you to see it with your own eyes," K said. "I don't need to warm up."

"Like I'd trust you any other way," Jacques said. "But he can set you up."

"Then I'll see you in a few minutes," she said. "Thanks." She turned on her heel and headed back toward the boys — relaxed and doing all she could to stay that way. When she found them, Clint looked mad and Barney apologetic. "I need you to set up some targets and let me borrow your throwing set."

Barney raised both eyebrows. "Whatchagonnado?"

"I'm going to prove to Jacques that you won't be without someone competent keeping you going in the off season."

"O...kay," Barney said, giving her a quick frown before he headed off to get her set up, leaving Clint watching her with a frown of his own.

"I wanna hit him," Clint told her. "It's _Christmas_ and stuff and he's not letting Barney stay with us!"

"No one's gonna hit him," K said.

"Not even a little bit?"

"Not this time, no," she replied.

"I don't like this," he said, crossing his arms. "I don't like any of it."

"Trust me," K told him quietly. "There isn't anything he can throw at me to screw me up. I've dealt with a lot worse than him."

"Okay," Clint said. "But I'll keep all my fingers and toes crossed, because this is really important," he added in a whisper.

"I know," K said before she kissed his forehead. "I'm not going to lose this."

Clint nodded, but he still looked incredibly nervous as he followed K to where Barney was setting up the targets quietly. Barney didn't look so much nervous as he looked sort of resigned, though he tipped his head K's way when the two of them arrived. "Got you all set up," he said quietly.

"Barney, chin up," K said as he handed her his knives. She took one out and weighed it in her hand for a moment, testing the balance. "This isn't a bad set, kiddo."

Barney smiled lightly. "I've been practicing so Jacques would let me in on the show next season," he said. "Right now, I'm just assisting, but I might even get to throw."

"Well," K said. "He's giving you the right tools."

Barney nodded. "Yeah, that's… that's why I wanna stick with this." He glanced up at K. "I'm real good at it, K. I really am."

She bent partway over to meet his gaze head on. "So am I." She set the knives down and slipped off her flannel shirt, then handed it to Clint. "Now we just wait on your trainer."

It didn't take too much longer for Jacques to arrive, looking smug as he took in the scene and made himself comfortable. "Now then," he drawled out. "Impress me."

"Tell me what you want me to hit," K said, gesturing openly.

"Start with the basics," he said. "Trick shots are one thing, but form… form is the most important thing."

She nodded at that picked up a knife and turned toward the target. "Distance?"

"Twenty feet to start, and we'll increase it by ten feet for each throw," he said.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay then."

"As I said, form is most important. If you want to teach my pupil anything, you have to prove that you can be as perfect as I am."

"I'm not arguing with you," she said, her expression open as she took her spot, relaxed her shoulders, and whipped the first knife into the bullseye.

Jacques leaned forward slightly, looking far more interested. "Thirty feet."

She didn't respond except to back up the distance he asked and simply repeat the process without a word said, letting her aim speak for itself.

After a few more of those, Jacques held up a hand to stop her. "You have the basics," he allowed. "But we also need performance." He tipped his head toward an old sign. "Dead center of each _vowel_ only."

"You want a particular order?"

"Alphabetical," Jacques said. "Might as well teach the boys something too."

She couldn't help but smile at that and nodded to herself as she picked up the right number of knives to do the job and then took just a moment before she started throwing at a quick clip, then simply stepped back and rested her weight on one hip as she turned back toward him. But she wasn't doing a thing more or less than he asked.

Jacques got to his feet as he walked toward her. "Let's see a little more creativity… your name in knives. It's one letter, after all."

She nodded at that and waited for Barney to return with the knives. "Main target, or did you have something else you wanted me to hit?"

"The main target," he said, though he was standing almost right behind her

"I had to ask," she said, and she thanked Barney when he handed her the stack of knives and flat out ignored the fact that Jacques was slowly moving closer. She didn't lose her relaxed stance, and after she let her breath out, she started her throws and kept the knives as tight as she could to work on making a solid, even 'K'.

By that time, Jacques had gotten close enough to shadow her movements, putting his hand on her waist as she threw, and he didn't make any secret of the fact that he was trying to throw her off. She was nearly done with the 'K' design when he leaned in even closer and dropped his voice low.

"You know… you're right. We shouldn't separate them. I'll make sure they both learn together; younger minds are always better to mold anyway, and I'm sure I can find a use for the younger boy too," he whispered.

She narrowed her eyes, but he didn't see it, and after she threw the last knife, she turned just her head so she could look up at him. "I leave that up to him," she said honestly. "But that's not what I asked you for. Tell me you don't have other things that you'd like to do — other interests to pursue over the off season." She did not, however, move beyond that or even correct him in the fact that he was so close and touching her.

Jacques held her gaze for a long moment before he finally let out a light laugh and stepped back. "If he slips, even the slightest bit ... if he misses his targets when he comes back… no more visits. At all. His brother wants to see him, he stays here," he said.

She turned to face him and kept her relaxed stance. "And if he exceeds expectations …"

Jacques considered her for a long moment. "If by some miracle he exceeds expectations, then you'll get no argument from me on subsequent winters."

K turned slightly to the boys. "What say you, boys?"

Barney was already nodding, and Clint was halfway holding his breath. "Yeah," Barney said. "Yeah, I promise I'll practice every day."

K turned back to Jacques and offered him her hand. "Shake on it?"

Jacques smirked and took her hand with a smile. "You have my word."

"And I'll hold you to it," she replied. "Have a nice winter, Jacques."

Jacques nodded her way once, sharply, and then turned on his heel to leave. And Barney only waited until he was sure Jacques was out of sight before he darted over to high-five K. "That was _amazing_ ," he said in a terse whisper.

"That?" she said, letting her irritation show finally. "I can do that with steak knives." She let out a breath. "Why don't you two gather up your clothes and we can be ready to head out as soon as the show's over."

"Watch for me," Barney said with a grin. "I'm an assistant now!"

"You're gonna be the best one out there," Clint agreed, clearly relieved and also tickled with his mom as he grabbed Barney and started to drag him along. "Come on. Let's get your stuff before he changes his mind, huh?"

"Ooh, yeah, good point," Barney said, rushing off with Clint and letting K take a moment to let her irritation show as she went to get their seats.

But by the time Clint caught up with her again, he was back to his usual cheerful self. "Barney has the _coolest_ knives and even a sword!" he said.

"He's doing really well," K agreed. "Could use a better diet, though. He's skinny."

Clint nodded quietly. "Yeah. But… but we'll take him hunting and we'll have steaks and all that stuff, right?"

"Oh yeah, he'll be strong by the time he gets back," K agreed.

Clint grinned as he pulled a bag of candy out of his pocket and held it out to her. "I got us some snacks if you want 'em," he said.

"Of course you did," she said, pulling him over to kiss the side of his head. "You think of those things all the time."

Clint grinned and sat down next to her, excited for the show to hurry up and be over so that he could run off with his brother for the winter season. Though since it was their last performance, even K and Clint had to be impressed with the way the performers were pulling out all the stops, despite the fact that they'd seen a lot of it before.

And Clint leaned forward delightedly when it was time for the weapons master performance — and he saw that Barney had his own costume and everything. It was an echo of the one that Jacques was wearing, but Clint had to elbow K and whisper, "He looks better."

"Low bar," K whispered back.

Clint giggled as he watched Jacques go through the opening of his act before he went around the edge of the tent looking for volunteers — and stopped in front of Clint and K. "What do you say, my dear?" he asked, extending a hand to her.

"Shit," she said between her teeth as she took his hand and went with it — sure that he'd be a pain otherwise.

Jacques led her to the center of the ring, presenting her to the roar of the crowd before he showed her where to stand. "Don't worry," he said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "I never miss."

"I have full faith," she replied easily, sure to put on a smile.

Jacques gave her a showman's smile before he turned out to the crowd and then resumed his performance, throwing the knives close enough to K to have the crowd gasping. And K could see that Clint was holding his breath, leaning nearly out of his seat — while Barney was doing his very best not to look terrified while he was in the center of the ring, even if he had a green hue to his cheeks.

K remained relaxed and held her smile — if nothing else, sure that Jacques wouldn't wreck his reputation during a show. And when the show was through and he hadn't even nicked her, Barney finally relaxed a little as Jacques offered her his hand again to present her to the crowd once more.

When K got back to her seat, Clint reached over and all but clutched to her. "I thought he was gonna hurt you," he whispered, wide-eyed.

"That would have hurt his reputation, sweetheart," K said quietly, sure to keep the smile in place, since there were plenty of people around them buzzing with excitement still, before she continued at a whisper, "And I would have healed and kicked the crap out of him."

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," he whispered back.

"No — so it would be that much more of a shock, wouldn't it?" K said.

Clint nodded quietly before he simply put his head down on her arm. "I can't wait til we get Barney gone from here," he whispered. _Jacques scares me,_ he added, signing it so no one could overhear it.

 _Not me_ , she replied right back.

 _Nothing scares you._

 _Nothing in this tent._

Clint looked up at her. "What are you scared of?" he asked. "I thought you wouldn't be scared of nothing."

"Nothing important right now," she promised. "I'll tell you later if you want to know. Not here."

Clint nodded. "Okay," he said. "I just didn't think you were scared of anything," he muttered. "But maybe… spiders?" He gave her a small, teasing smile, obviously trying to get a smile out of her.

"I'm fine, Clint. It wasn't bad, really."

"He was doing it to scare you, though," Clint said "Just because he could."

"In that case, he failed."

"He sure scared Barney, though," Clint said.

"He shouldn't have been scared," K said. "Like I said, everyone's trying to show off today. Jacques included. He's probably mad I threw as well as I did."

"Yeah, some people don't like losing to girls 'cause they're _stupid_ ," Clint whispered with real relish.

"He's got all kinds of reasons," K agreed, though at least Clint had calmed down a little by that time.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch, and as the performers and the audience headed out of the tent, the ringmaster made it a point to find the two of them.

"I like the hair," he told K with a smirk.

"Every now and again, a girl has to change it up," she said, lifting her shoulder to her ear.

"Didn't even recognize you until I saw you with Clint," he said, tipping his head toward Clint. "But I gotta say, lady — you got balls."

"Why would you say that?" she laughed.

"Like I don't know what Jacques was trying to pull?" The ringmaster shook his head before he put his hand out and slipped her some money while he was at it. "That's for Barney. Christmas bonus. I'm not giving it to Jacques or he won't see it, and I figure you have better plans anyway."

She gave him an honest smile. "I'll make sure he gets it. And I have to tell you — there wasn't a thing to worry about. That man's pride wouldn't let him slip up in front of a crowd."

"Maybe you're right. But most people can't keep that in their heads when he's facing them with knives," the ringmaster pointed out. "Like I said. Nerves of steel, you've got."

She smiled again and offered him her hand for another shake. "See you in the spring. And thanks."

With that, the two of them headed to the trailer, where Barney was waiting for them with his bag thrown over his shoulder and his weapons cases at his feet. "We ready to go?" he asked, sounding almost nervous, like he was expecting Jacques to rescind his permission at any moment.

"Waiting on you," K said.

Barney grinned at that as he followed Clint and K back to where K had parked, though he had to raise an eyebrow when he saw the new Jeep. "Do you guys change cars, like, every time you come here?" he asked.

"It was a crap car," K defended. "Never would have made it the winter where we're headed."

Barney nodded as Clint helped him load up his stuff in the backseat, and Sicem made sure to give him a good licking once he had climbed in as well. Barney had to laugh, scratching Sicem's ears. "I love your dog, by the way. Did I tell you?"

"Yeah, he's the best," Clint agreed cheerfully before he climbed in too. "C'mon, Barney. You're gonna love the cottage."


	12. This is All For Me?

**Notes: CC has a very good mental image of that cottage, so you would have to ask her. She's the one with the perfect description in her head ;) As for the archery, I based that entire lesson on my own first day at archery lessons (my hubby and I have been going for months now) so I would hope that it came across as realistic ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 12: This is All For Me?**

* * *

Barney was, according to Clint, suitably surprised by the cottage once they arrived, staring around with his mouth open as Clint showed him around — including his room. By the time the boys got back downstairs, Barney had the same sort of overwhelmed shocked look that Clint had been wearing when K showed him the shooting range.

"The room gonna be okay?" K asked as she worked on dinner. "Clint said you liked red, but if you don't like it …"

"No… it's … it's good," Barney said quickly.

She nodded at that and then crooked her finger at him. "Hey. Ringmaster gave me something that belongs to you." She reached in her pocket and held out the cash. "He said it was a bonus for Christmas. I didn't count it."

Barney's eyes got even wider as he silently took the cash. "T… thanks," he managed to say.

"Can I show Barney the shooting range?" Clint asked. "I wanna show him my bow!"

"Go ahead," K said, waving at them. "Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes. Have fun."

Clint grinned and seized Barney's wrist to drag him out to the barn to show him the targets that K had set up. "K showed me how to shoot," he explained. "She showed me how to throw a knife too so I could practice with you — isn't that cool?"

Barney stared at the targets for a long moment before he finally let out a low whistle and looked Clint's way. "You… you got all the luck, Clint."

Clint grinned. "You can stay with me and K, you know. I don't mind sharing my luck."

Barney shook his head. "No, I like … I know you don't like Jacques, but I really do like being in the circus."

"Okay, but if you change your mind…"

"I know," Barney said before he let out a breath and turned to Clint with a smirk. "Okay, show me whatcha got."

Clint positively beamed before he dashed off to get his bow and arrows and showed Barney how he had learned how to do his breathing and everything — which Barney was nodding along to, since Jacques had said more or less the same thing.

Clint was grinning widely as he showed Barney how much better he was doing — getting on the black and even sometimes the blue with every shot — before he went down to get his arrows and gestured for Barney to take a turn. "You wanna throw your knives? I want to see your cool training too!"

Barney grinned at that and nodded before he rushed off to get his knives, looking incredibly proud as he got on the red and yellow with each throw, getting a look of pure awe out of his little brother.

"You're gonna be the best ever, Barney," Clint said.

Barney grinned at that. "You're getting real good too," he said. "If Jacques ever leaves the circus…"

"I dunno, Barn; I like traveling with K."

"Okay, but if you change your mind…"

"Yeah, I know," Clint said.

The boys ran through a few more runs before it was time for dinner, and they were all smiles as they headed back to the cottage.

"K!" Clint called out happily. "K! Barney is really, really good at his knives! He's gonna be as good as you in _no time_!"

"I have no doubts," K agreed with a little smile.

Barney grinned. "And Clint showed me his bow. That's pretty cool."

"You can try mine out," K offered. "But it's got a heavier draw weight."

Barney shrugged. "I just wanna practice what Jacques gave me so I can keep coming back," he said.

She nodded. "And you can," K agreed. "But maybe I'll get you a bow so you can relax too."

"Yeah, Barn. Fun. Remember fun?" Clint teased.

Barney rolled his eyes at that and shoved his brother in the shoulder. "You're not funny."

"Yeah, I am. I'm hilarious," Clint defended, his chin thrust out.

"Wash up boys — your potato bar awaits," K said over her shoulder. "And s'mores on the deck later."

"You're the best!" Clint declared, rushing off to the bathroom, though Barney hung back to talk to K.

"You're… he… you take real good care of him, K," Barney said at last. "And… and I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," she said. "He's a great kid. Fun to have around — and no trouble at all."

"Yeah," Barney said, nodding lightly. "I just… You have this house and — and a dog and a shooting range and — and I wish I could do that for him," he said, looking down at the ground.

K let out a breath as she turned to face him. "Barney, all he wants is time with you. And you're still young enough that you deserve to spend time with him without having to be the adult. Enjoy it."

Barney nodded at that and then bit his lip before he darted over to give her a hug that was short enough that it was over before she had even registered it, and then he rushed off to go clean up.

It wasn't long before the boys could be heard all the way down the hallway, teasing each other and roughhousing until they got to the kitchen. And Clint was clearly tickled to get to show off for Barney — the house, his mom, all of it.

By the time they got outside, though, Barney had started in on his own stories from the circus — and both K and Clint were relieved to hear that outside of Jacques and his circle of influence… Barney was honestly enjoying himself. He had made friends with a few of the younger performers — a teenager who was working with the animals and a little girl about Clint's age who was the strong man's daughter. And the ringmaster was good with all the kids and always made sure that they got the chance to hang out and have time to play — even if a lot of Barney's time was taken up with training.

They made s'mores, and Sicem sat on Barney's feet while they were outside, which had Barney grinning to himself and feeling a little more like part of the group, too.

* * *

By the time Clint's birthday rolled around, the weather had gotten downright cold, and there was a foot of snow on the ground when Clint woke up — and it was still snowing.

He grinned to himself as he slipped out of bed and headed downstairs, where K had a nice fire going to keep the cottage warm, and Barney was already sitting in front of the fire, leaning back on Sicem's stomach and perfectly content. It made Clint happy to see that Barney had gotten comfortable so fast, because he really wanted Barney to feel like he was _home_ here.

When Barney saw that Clint had arrived, he grinned and got to his feet to rush over and grab him in a spinning hug. "Happy birthday!"

Clint grinned as he returned the hug. "Thanks, Barn."

"What did you want for breakfast, birthday boy?" K asked from where she had her feet pulled up underneath her.

"Can I have pancakes?" Clint asked.

Barney laughed. "You always want pancakes."

"Yeah, because they're _good_."

"Blueberries or strawberries?" K asked, already getting to her feet.

"Can we do both?" Clint asked.

"No reason not to," she agreed.

Clint grinned and rushed over to hug K. "I'm really glad I get to have my birthday _here_. Seven is gonna be a great year!"

She kissed the top of his head as she hugged him one-armed, still holding her coffee. "Happy Birthday."

"Old enough that you don't need your big brother looking out for you, right?" Barney teased. "I'll take a vacation."

"Nuh-uh," Clint insisted, shaking his head quickly. "No way I could do anything without you!"

"You do alright," Barney smirked before he headed to the side table and grabbed a book off of the edge to bring to Clint. "Didn't get it wrapped, but… K said you like Robin Hood stories and you want to read more. So…" He handed Clint the book, which was a beginner's reader version of the Robin Hood tales.

Clint stared at the book in obvious awe before he simply threw his arms around his brother. "Barney… you didn't hafta use — that's _your_ money!"

"And I get to spend it on what I wanna spend it on," Barney insisted. "It's your birthday, okay? Just… just shut up and take the book."

"Okay," Clint said, hugging Barney a little tighter for a second before he dashed upstairs to put the book on his nightstand so that he could be sure to read it later.

By the time he got downstairs, K had whipped up the pancakes and bacon for the three of them and she was sure to set her gift to him next to the stove — not handing it to him yet, but letting him know it was there. "I have to run into town to pick up your cake," she said. "So I hope you boys can have a little fun just the two of you."

"We're gonna throw some knives," Clint told her. "And we're gonna build a snowman."

"Probably not in that order," Barney teased.

"Right. Well. Keep your eyes open for wolves," she said easily. "Sicem will help you."

"We'll keep Sicem close," Barney promised, grabbing Clint's arm to drag him upstairs so they could get changed into warmer clothes and go play outside.

The snow was still falling, which meant it was the perfect snowfall for building things. It packed well, and there was plenty of it, and the boys wasted no time in setting to work rolling the biggest ball they could to start with for the base and then a slightly less massive ball for the middle… though they realized their lack of foresight when they had to try and put the middle on top of the base… and it was a little heavier than they expected.

Between the two of them, they managed to heave it onto the base, and the third ball was much more manageable. The whole thing was taller than Clint was, so he climbed on Barney's back to put on the hat and the raisins for the mouth as well as the carrot nose before Barney set him down again.

"Geez, Clint, I dunno if I can keep doing this if you're gonna keep growing," Barney teased.

"I can't help it," Clint shot back. "K says I hit another growth spurt!"

"Yeah, no kidding," Barney laughed, shaking his head

Clint grinned before he simply pushed his brother into the snow, and the two of them wound up in a wrestling match that left both of them with snow down their backs and in their hair until they were soaked through by the time they got inside to change out of their wet clothes.

When K finally returned, she had not only the cake and a load of groceries but another bow under her arm as well. She set down the still steaming pizza boxes and waved the boys over. "We can put away supplies later. Get on this while it's hot."

Clint beamed as he rushed over. "You got my favorite!"

"Well it _is_ your birthday," she pointed out.

"Spoiled," Barney teased, shoving Clint in the shoulder, and Clint shoved him right back.

K smirked at that and then pointedly handed Barney the bow she'd brought in. "Yeah. Totally spoiled."

Barney flushed as he took the bow. "I — I — thanks, K," he spluttered, getting a little snicker out of Clint.

"Your brother really wanted to shoot with you. So …." She gestured with both hands. "You can shoot together now."

"It's okay, Mom — you don't gotta act like it's just for _me_ you got him a bow," Clint said with a crooked smile.

"Oh, I'm just saying: that's a bonus to it," she said, then handed them both a cold glass bottle of Coke.

"This is the best birthday I've ever had," Clint told K earnestly.

"You just haven't had too many," K said. "They'll get better."

"Even better than this?" Clint shook his head. "I don't think so."

Barney chuckled at that. "Yeah, 'cause you're _so old_ now."

"I'm only _seven_."

"Yeah, which is _old_."

"Yeah? Well that makes you the _crypt keeper_."

Barney smirked at that before he let out a noise that was clearly his best approximation of the undead that had Clint laughing outright.

The two boys dug in to the pizza with abandon, and there were no leftovers by the time Clint got around to unwrapping the present K had gotten him. He hadn't opened it yet because he'd wanted to be sure he got to hug K for it, and she needed to actually be around for that. And when he saw the purple arrows, he very nearly didn't let her go at all for how much he was hugging the stuffing out of her.

"You're welcome," she laughed. "The ones you were using were getting worn out. It's high time for some new ones — _and,_ " she said, pausing to make sure he took a breath and looked at her. "I found a place you guys can shoot with other kids if you want. They start tournaments up in January."

Clint's eyes were wide. "Do you think I'm good enough?" he whispered. "I still can't hit the yellow."

"You'll be going up against other kids with your skill level," she said. "So yeah. You'll be good enough."

Clint grinned at her, pulling on her hand to get her to crouch down to his level. "Thanks, Mom," he whispered.

"You're welcome," she said back with a little smile. "All I have to do is call if you want in."

"I sure do!" Clint said, glancing over his shoulder to Barney.

"What about you, Barney? You want in?" K asked.

Barney looked between them before he smirked and nodded. "I guess I better start practicing, huh?"

"How about after the cake?" she suggested.

"Ooh, yes. We gotta have cake," Clint agreed, all but skipping over to the table, with Barney not far behind laughing at his enthusiasm.

K of course let Clint cut the cake — the same way she'd let Barney cut his — and it wasn't long before both of the kids were sugared up and racing each other out to the range so they could practice.


	13. All I Want for Christmas is Family

**Notes: CC, I love how much the boys are getting to have some normalcy here. They clearly need it (so badly). And I love that they're getting it.**

 **Griezz, I think K (and Logan) have naturally caring personalities, honestly. Just look at Logan and the way he is around any smol children. But I'm glad you can see how amazing she is at it too!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13: All I Want For Christmas Is Family**

* * *

The night before Christmas, Clint wanted to spend the night in Barney's room, if for no other reason than that it was Christmas Eve, and he hadn't _ever_ spent a Christmas Eve where he and Barney were in the same house without him — and without waking up in the morning to drag Barney down to whatever celebrations were going on. Even if they didn't have anything or anyone but each other, Clint wanted to try to do _something_.

Only this time, they did have someone, so waking up on Christmas morning was a lot more exciting.

But even though Clint woke up a little earlier than usual, he didn't immediately wake Barney up — and he didn't go downstairs just yet. K had helped the boys set up a Christmas tree, and they'd made popcorn garlands, and there were presents sitting underneath it… but he was still half convinced that it would all be gone when he got downstairs. He didn't know why, because he'd seen it, but he kept thinking someone was going to show up and take him away from K or tell him he had to go back to the home he'd run away from…

But Barney woke up not long after Clint got up, and when he saw that Clint was already awake, he smirked. "You can't ever wait, can you?"

Clint smiled up at him and shook his head. "Not on Christmas," he said.

Barney sat up a little more and then stretched out lazily. "Yeah. Well. You got a pretty good setup this year."

"You too, Barney," Clint said.

Barney turned to face Clint and then shrugged. "No," he said slowly, "I don't want another mom."

Clint frowned at that. "How come?"

"I liked ours," he said simply.

Clint pressed his lips together as he considered it. He didn't remember their mom as much as Barney did, so it was hard to feel like that, but he knew that Barney was the one that reminded him of how things used to be, so he knew Barney had to miss it.

"I … I like having a mom," Clint said.

"I'm glad you got one," Barney said quickly. "I just — I'm not gonna call her that, okay?"

Clint nodded. "Okay… but we're still family, right?"

"Duh," Barney said with a smirk.

"A weird one, huh?" Clint said, smiling nervously up at Barney.

"That's the best kind," Barney said. "Stop overthinking it, Clint. You're gonna give yourself a headache. It looks hard." He reached over and poked Clint in the forehead, and Clint batted his hand away.

"Shut up, Barney."

"Merry Christmas to you too," Barney grinned.

The boys slipped down the stairs after that, and Clint was irrationally relieved to see that everything was still there — and that K and Sicem were already sitting by the tree, K with her coffee in hand. Clint had to wonder if she had heard them moving around upstairs; she _had_ said that she had really good hearing…

"Something smells _great_ ," Barney said, his eyebrows high on his head.

K smirked up at him and got to her feet. "My little tradition," she said. "Cinnamon rolls and Swedish pancakes — with lingonberries. Merry Christmas, boys." She waved them over where the cinnamon rolls were setting on top of the stove keeping warm and then pulled the already-made thin pancakes out of the oven before she held up one hand. "It's also a tradition — but I'm not going to make you do it — to have a little coffee with both. But you don't have to."

"I can handle it," Barney said quickly.

"Can I have hot chocolate instead?" Clint asked.

"You sure can," K agreed, then turned to the cabinet to get out the supplies. "Whipped cream okay with you? I think we're out of marshmallows."

"Then I can have a moustache," Clint said, grinning wider as he nodded along.

She quickly mixed up his cocoa and slid the cup to him barroom style. "You boys sleep okay?"

"About as well as we usually sleep on Christmas," Barney said, shooting Clint a look.

Clint stuck his tongue out at him. "I can't help that I like Christmas."

"Just a day of lazing and relaxing, really," K said. "The food will cook itself, more or less."

Barney grinned as he sat down at the table and helped himself to one of the cinnamon rolls. "This is the best thing I've tasted in, like… forever."

"I thought you knew that I could cook," she said with a little frown. "And like I'd let you go hungry or deal with _cereal_ on Christmas."

"Yeah, I mean… don't you wanna sleep in on the holiday?" Barney said with a shrug. "Not everybody runs on sugar plums like Clint."

"It's not Christmas to me without this breakfast before you, my darlings."

Clint smiled at that and rushed over to hug her. "Merry Christmas, Mom," he said, glancing over at Barney, who let out a sigh and shrugged lightly.

"Yeah. Merry Christmas… um… K? What do you want me to call you here…"

"Whatever you want to call me," she said. "I'll even answer to 'hey you' on occasion." She pushed the cinnamon rolls closer to him. "Really, Barney. You can just call me K if you like."

"You sure?" Barney said. "Clint's all … chummy…"

"I don't expect anything from either of you but for you to enjoy your time here," K replied. "No stress. No pressure."

Barney held her gaze for a long moment before he shrugged up one soldier and then went back to his cinnamon roll, though Clint was more enthusiastic about his excitement, wolfing down his cinnamon roll so that he was ready to get to the presents.

"Go ahead, whenever you're ready," K said, gesturing toward the living room. "If you hadn't figured it out, I'm not that structured." She smiled his way as she put some more lingonberries on her pancakes.

Clint grinned as he rushed to the tree, grabbing an armful of presents to bring to the table - a couple for him and one for Barney, but that was as much as he could carry at once. And when he opened the first one to see that there was a set of throwing knives _for him_ , he let out a gasp and rushed over to hug K.

"You should probably just stay there," Barney laughed as he played with the ribbon on his own box. "He's gonna do that every time. Did it when he was, like, three and it was his stuffed rabbit Mom gave him too."

"He's a sweet boy," K defended as she gave Clint a kiss on the temple.

Barney simply smirked at that before he opened his own box, though when he saw that he, too, had gotten a set of throwing knives, he stopped and stared at it… suddenly unsure what to do or say besides a really quiet "thanks" when he finally looked up at K again.

"You're welcome," she said, smirking at him. "See … the way I figure it, if you're going to be a professional, you should be just as comfortable with one set as another. And _when_ you blow the doors off of your mentor in the spring, you'll have this set waiting for you when you get back at the end of the season."

"You really… you really didn't haveta…" Barney breathed out.

"I wanted to," she said, leaning on her elbows as she watched him. "I think you've got the potential to pass him by. And I'm gonna do everything I can to help you with that — if you want me to."

Barney nodded quietly before he swallowed and then quickly darted over to give her another short hug. "I really, really appreciate it," he whispered.

"Then I hope you enjoy them," she replied just as quietly. "When you master these, I'll get you a new set, and if you get bored, we can work on hatchets too."

"Okay, that — that sounds _awesome_ ," he said, snapping out of his shock a bit to give her a troublemaking grin.

She held up one finger. "I just have one request. If you do try out hatchets — I want you to keep that to yourself when you get back in the spring. At least until he starts to show you — then I want you to smoke him."

Barney started to laugh outright at that as Clint handed him another box — already wearing the baseball cap that K had gotten him too. "His face would be _so_ great," Barney agreed.

"You gotta catch up," Clint informed Barney, breaking into the back and forth between him and K, which had Barney laughing outright.

K had gotten the boys some clothes in addition to the knives — giving them more options than they'd had in a long time for clothes. Which honestly meant more than they could say to her.

By the time the boys had gotten through the small pile of presents, K found herself with both of them on either side of her on the couch in front of the fire — and even if Barney wasn't doing the outright snuggle that Clint was, it was clear that they were both just… content to hug her.

"Juggling balls in the stockings with a metric ton of candy. When you two get bored," she said casually. "Seemed like something you should know how to do."

"Yeah," Barney said, smirking lightly. "What kind of circus freak would I be if I couldn't at least do _that_?"

"I fully expect you to be ready to work with chainsaws come next year."

"No way," Clint said vehemently. "No chainsaws for my big brother."

"I wouldn't get _hurt_ ," Barney said, rolling his eyes. "Not if I know what I'm doing. I deal with weapons all the time, Clint."

"You take the chain off of them anyhow," K said. "Perfectly harmless. But you know. People don't see it when you have the engines going."

"Oh, okay," Clint said. "I guess that's a little better, then."

"I'm pretty sure your mom wouldn't let me do anything that would hurt me," Barney pointed out. "Not after all the effort she put in with Jacques."

"I tried," she said, shrugging. "That's all I could do."

"And you wiped the floor with him," Barney said. "He's real mad at you, you know. He was swearing before I left."

"Not my fault he didn't think I could do it," K said.

"No, but I'm just sayin' - he's real mad, so he's probably not gonna be nice to you… ever."

"He wasn't going to be anyhow," K said. "Not after I shut him down the first time."

"I don't think he has a nice bone in his body," Clint said, nodding sagely.

"If that was true, he wouldn't be working with your brother. That's a step beyond just ego," K argued.

"And I've seen him be nice," Barney said. When Clint gave him a look that said he clearly didn't believe him, Barney shrugged. "It happens."

"I'm going to bet most of those times was when he wanted something from someone," K guessed.

Barney nodded. "Usually pretty girls."

She gestured openly. "I'll just say low bar. Again."

"Well, he's also nice to some of his buddies, but I think that's just because they stroke his ego," Barney said in a mock whisper, one hand up to his mouth.

"Yeah, well, let's not talk about stupid on Christmas," Clint said, wrinkling up his nose. "Okay?"

Barney shrugged. "Okay," he said. "What do you wanna do instead?"

Clint grinned. "Wanna try out juggling?"

Barney nodded. "Sure, why not? Might be a pretty cool Christmas tradition."

"Like cinnamon rolls in the morning?" Clint said, glancing up at K.

"Worth a shot," she said with a shrug. "Go for it."

With that, the boys were off like a shot, filling their pockets with candy before they moved the couch a little further back to give themselves some room — because as Clint pointed out, they weren't gonna be very good at it yet and he didn't want to hit K with any of the flying balls.

But they needn't have worried, not when Sicem was more than happy to run after any of the balls that they dropped, wagging his tail and looking incredibly proud every time he brought a ball back to its owner.

Which meant that the impromptu juggling practice session quickly turned into instead a long game of fetch with Sicem that ended up with both boys wrestling with each other and roughhousing with Sicem until they were well and truly worn out and ready to be fed.


	14. Friendly Competition

**Notes: Yeah, seeing the Barton boys all happy and content and getting to be part of a family for the first time warms the heart, doesn't it? Why is this so much fun? Why can't Marvel do more of this?**

* * *

 **Chapter 14: Friendly Competition**

* * *

It wasn't long after Christmas before the boys found themselves in the Jeep with K on the way to the archery tournament. Both of them were excited, and Clint was especially thrilled that his purple arrows would be easy to pick out — but K could also tell that both of them were nervous.

They wanted to do well, and this was also, for Barney, the first real 'test' of how well he'd learned and kept up his skills without Jacques.

Still, there was a whole new change that came over both of the boys once they arrived to see the small crowd gathered up — of parents, trainers, instructors, and people in the community all coming to support the kids for the tournament.

With someone to show off to, and someone to compete against, K could actually see both of them getting more confident — especially Clint, who was still short and looked small enough that some of the older kids didn't seem to believe that he was in the skill level that he signed up for.

K had to smirk when she saw Clint draw himself up with his chin jutted out. "Money where your mouth is," he told the older boys, which got a sort of snerk out of Barney. "When I win, you'll just have to be wrong. So, so wrong."

Barney was grinning as he put an arm around Clint's shoulders. "C'mon, Clint. You don't wanna get off on the wrong foot. We'll fight 'em later if they're still gonna pick on someone half their side," he said in a voice that the other boys could still hear.

The other boys glanced at each other and seemed to take offense to that, but one of the instructors stepped in before things could get too out of hand and had all the kids get set up with their targets, reminding everyone of the scoring system.

"You will each shoot three arrows in each round," she told them. "A perfect thirty will get you an extra prize, but the goal here is just to do your best." She flashed the kids a smile. "And good luck."

Clint's group went first — though he and Barney were at the same skill level. This was where most of the kids were, so they shot in groups and then stepped aside for the next group… and the Barton boys had decided that there had to be one of them in each line.

After all, they wanted to show off.

The first group of five hit the line at the same time, though the kids took varying amounts of time to get set up. Clint took a moment to set his stance, remembering to set his gaze on the target, drawing his string back so that his hand was resting at about his jawline…

He let his arrow fly, and he couldn't stop the grin when he hit the line right on the red and yellow — which still counted as nine points. He adjusted his sights so he wouldn't shoot as high and then grinned over his shoulder at Barney, checking out the other kids' shots. Most of them were about where he was — there was one kid who looked like he'd been doing it for a while that got on the yellow, a nine-pointer too.

When Barney's group took their turns, Clint wasn't surprised to see that his brother got on the red the first shot — eight points — and from there, it was just a matter of honestly showing off.

Once the boys had their groove, they were shooting consistently, reds and yellows most of the way. It was the product of practicing as often as they did — practically every other day — but K was also sure that competition had a lot to do with it too. The boys were checking themselves and their posture, their positions, their hands, their grips — all of it was far more meticulous than when it was just the two of them in the repurposed barn.

The instructor looked impressed by the time the younger shooters were done, though Barney and Clint were more focused on needling each other as they headed over to K.

"Did you see that?" Clint asked, bouncing on his toes. "I got a twenty-six!"

"Not bad," she said with a little smirk. "I'm not surprised though. You've been practicing."

"I got a twenty-five," Barney said. "I was, like, _this_ close to the line, though."

"Still less than me," Clint sang to his brother, who shoved him in the shoulder and rolled his eyes.

"Aww, shut up, Clint."

"You're just jealous!"

"Yeah, because getting shown up by my baby brother is real fun," Barney said.

Clint shook his head at that. "I'm not a baby!"

"It'd probably be a different story with knives," K reminded both of them.

"Oooh, yeah, that's true," Clint said, nodding seriously. "You'd totally win if it was knives."

Barney smirked and straightened up a bit, though it was clear that he didn't realize he was doing it. "Yeah, I'd totally wipe the floor with everyone."

Clint grinned even wider at that before he and Barney ducked out to get the ribbons and the golden arrows — which, of course, only had them more energetic and excited to show off their winnings to K.

"Oh yeah, this was a good idea, alright," K said, nodding her head when she saw the expressions on their faces. "Does this mean you want to come back for the Valentine's Day one too?"

"Yes please!" Clint sang out, with Barney nodding seriously beside him.

She gestured to where the sign-up sheet was. "Go ahead. Sign up now then you know you're in."

The boys raced each other to the sheet, which had a few people chuckling. "Where'd you find them?" one of the men asked, grinning K's way.

"What's it to you?" K shot back. "You know I just like to see them do well, right? That's why I helped your boy a few years back."

The man smirked, glancing toward his own little brown-haired boy, who was shooting with the older kids at the moment. "Well, yeah, but you just show up with a couple boys who can outshoot everyone — you gotta know we want to know more."

"They're mine. What more is there to know?" she asked, tipping her head to the side.

"Did you just pick them up out of an archery tournament?" he teased.

"No, the heavens opened up, and they floated down on gossamer clouds. Come on."

He had to laugh at that. "Okay, okay," he said, holding up both hands.

She made her way over to him and let her voice drop lower. "Come on. Kids their age have a hell of a time finding families. Especially together."

At that, he dropped his teasing smile and nodded, clapping a hand on her shoulder. "Couldn't ask for a better mom," he said.

"I already told you I'm not adopting you," she laughed, though she hadn't seem bothered by the teasing anyhow. "You couldn't pass the shooting test."

"I knew it!" he laughed, shaking his head before he headed off to go cheer on his boy, leaving K with her two excited boys brimming with energy.

"D'you think they'll do lots of Cupid decorations?" Clint was asking Barney as they caught up to K. "That seems like an archery-Valentines thing, right?"

"Umm, maybe?" Barney said, one eye closed as he considered the possibility. "I dunno. But I'm _not_ wearing a diaper," he added, crossing his arms.

"You're not gonna make _me_ where one either!" Clint said quickly.

"Well, you _are_ the baby brother," Barney pointed out.

"I'm _not_ gonna do it!"

"You gotta; you're the baby."

" _Mom!_ " Clint rushed over to K. "Mom! I don't wanna be a Cupid!"

"So don't," she said. "No one says it's a rule. But if your brother wants to push, I vote he has to put on a toga."

"What's a toga?" Clint asked.

"It's a _bedsheet_ ," Barney said, pulling a face with his tongue sticking out.

"More or less," K laughed. "Bedsheet and a rope."

"Like a really bad Halloween ghost?" Clint asked, mimicking Barney's face from earlier.

"Especially that time of year," K said. "February is even colder than January. And you can't wear pants with a toga — so there would be a breeze where there should not be."

Both of the boys shuddered at that. "No way," they said, almost in unison.

"Hey, I've worn short dresses in this weather. I don't want to hear speculative whining," K pointed out.

"And your legs didn't freeze off?" Barney said, his eyebrows high.

Clint leaned over and tapped Barney on the shoulder to sign, _it's the healing_ , to him, and Barney's eyebrows went even higher as he looked K's way. "Really?" he asked.

"Well a little bit. The cold doesn't bother me very much," K said. "Unless I get wet. Then that's an issue, but otherwise …"

"Yeah, being wet _and_ cold is the worst," Clint agreed, wrinkling his nose.

Barney was nodding, though he kept frowning K's way, watching her quietly as they headed back to the Jeep — though that was as long as he was willing to wait before he blurted out, "Okay, so… what?"

"What what?" K asked, turning his way, still smirking.

"What… what healing?" he asked.

"Oh," she said before she cleared her throat a little. "Well. I heal fast."

"Like _real_ fast," Clint said, his eyes wide. "I saw her cut her hand and there was no blood, like, a minute later!"

"That's…" Barney tipped his head to the side, watching K. "Huh."

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" she asked. "Because I have no control over that."

"Well," Barney said slowly, drawing out the one word for a long time. "Well… I live with a buncha circus freaks... so I can't _really_ judge, right?"

She tipped her head and sighed. "I suppose that's one way to look at it. But Clint can tell you the rest — and if you have questions, I'll answer them."

Barney nodded, and that was really all the permission Clint needed to launch into an explanation of what he knew — that K could heal, that she could bounce back from even big stuff… which, he said, he knew because she'd said that there were bad guys who wanted to use her because she could get shot and still fight for them.

"And," K said when Clint was all talked out. "I have enhanced senses."

"Like… like X-ray vision?" Barney asked.

"Oh that would be cool, _no_ ," K said in an almost awed tone. "I have excellent vision and night vision — so I can see in very low light, my hearing is well above normal, and I can decipher scents better than … pretty much anything I'm aware of." She shrugged. "Nothing too exciting, really."

"Oh, okay. So you're like… like if everyone else had a cold and you were normal, except different…"

"I like that," K said. "Good description."

Barney grinned at that. "Well, okay. So… so you have bad guys comin' after you… like ... like Jacques or like _bad guys_?"

"Comparatively, I don't think Jacques is too bad," K said. "Stupid. Self-centered, sure. But not necessarily bad."

Barney let out a low whistle. "That's… that's kinda crazy."

"Hey, I didn't ask for it," she said frankly but in a very easy tone.

"Did you just… wake up that way? Did you fall in, like, a vat of toxic sludge or something?"

"Oooh, that would be a good story," she said. "Maybe I should use that, No." She smirked at him. "I was maybe ten when it kicked in."

Barney was quiet for a long time before he seemed to straighten up and turned her way. "Did ... did you … are you a mutant?"

"I am," she said. "Something else I had no choice in, but I get it if you don't want to get too cozy."

Barney bit his lip, obviously thinking it over before he glanced over at Clint and then let his shoulders drop as he shook his head. "No, no… I just…" He let out a breath. "No, I just wasn't expecting it? We got a couple in the circus, but you can't tell nobody, okay? They don't want people to know."

"I'm in the same kind of boat," K agreed. "I don't really talk about it."

"Well…" Barney looked back at Clint. "I guess if Clint's gonna have a new mom… one that is real hard to kill would… um. That would be better than… before…" he said, trailing off as he did so.

She smiled softly at that and turned his way. "I should probably come clean and let you know that it's next to impossible to lie to me. So no one will get away with lying to either of you if I'm around."

Barney let out a low whistle. "How do you do that?"

"Some of it's body language — the way someone's eyes dart one way or another, things like that. But the rest of it is that I can smell it when someone tries to be deceitful."

"That is kinda cool," Barney said. "I wish I could do that."

"I can teach you the other stuff," she said. "The body language and whatnot. That's nearly as reliable."

"Can I learn that too?" Clint chimed in from the backseat. "I wanna keep up! If both of my favorite people know that stuff, I wanna do it too!"

"I think you should," K agreed. "It's useful, and it might save you some trouble down the road."

"Yeah, and when I'm grown up, I can totally make sure nobody lies to kids too!" Clint said, his eyes wide.

Barney glanced at K and smirked lightly. "Yeah. That's a good life plan."


	15. Back to the Daily Grind

**Notes: Lol, it's a fun story where Barney gets to be classified as totally reasonable ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Back to the Daily Grind**

* * *

As the winter came to a close, it was clear that Barney was actually having a hard time at the thought of going back to the circus after spending so long with K and Clint — hiking and playing with Sicem and practicing archery and throwing knives...

Not that he would _say_ anything. He had decided to join the circus, and he wanted to stick to that. It was the first time he had decided anything for himself, and he was doing it _for himself_. It was a big deal, and he really wanted to stick to it, even if he did really, _really_ like being with Clint and his mom.

But as it got closer to springtime, K had called up the ringmaster to make sure that they had the dates and location right, and Barney ended up getting to talk to him too.

By the time the conversation was over, he was grinning as he caught back up with K. "The ringmaster said if I got tired of Jacques, he'd show me how to work a crowd if I wanted," he said. "He says I got a _future_ ," he added, his eyes sparkling.

"Of course you do," she said, scrunching her nose up. "What made you think otherwise?"

Barney shrugged both shoulders up, looking a bit self-conscious all of a sudden with the clear challenge to explain his thinking when he knew it wasn't what K wanted to hear. "I dunno," he said. "I've never had one before."

"I"m gonna act like I didn't hear that," K said.

"It's just the truth," Barney said. "Nobody thinks a runaway's got a future…"

"I'm sorry, I've gone deaf … I don't know … what?"

"K… I know you didn't go deaf. You can hear better than me anyway."

"No … No I can't hear things like that coming out of your mouth…"

"I didn't say I don't got a future _now_ ," Barney said, shaking his head at her. "You're weird."

"I just feel like, regardless, you would make something of yourself," K said. "To hell with anyone that says otherwise."

Barney smiled up at her with one shoulder shrugged up. "That's a lot of people going to hell," he said, going for a little smirk.

"They can keep each other warm," she deadpanned.

He grinned at that and shook his head again. "Okay, well, anyway… ringmaster said he'll be looking out for us when we get to Chicago."

"Excellent," she said with a nod. "I know exactly where we're going, so … pack up the clothes that fit best — and we can head out first thing."

Barney grinned at her and dashed off to go collect his bag and start loading up — tossing shirts and pants in and getting more excited the more he thought about it.

By the time they did get to the circus, a week ahead of the first show, Barney was in high spirits, and he even made sure to give K an actual, honest-to-goodness bear hug once they got out of the Jeep.

"You do know I'm not just ditching you, right?" K said as she hugged him back. "I need to be there to gloat when you ace the snooty one's pop quiz — which I am sure is coming."

Barney nodded. "Yeah… yeah, I know," he said. "I just… thanks for everything."

"We'll see you before you know it," she said.

Barney nodded at that and drew himself up, almost like he was preparing for something, before he darted off, tossing a "bye, Aunt K!" over his shoulder so quickly that it would be hard to respond.

"Your brother is something else," K said to Clint as they headed into the maze of gathering trailers.

"Yeah, he's something," Clint said, grinning after Barney. "You don't mind if he calls you that, right? It's just he remembers our mom more than me…"

"I said before he could call me whatever he wanted," K replied. "I meant it. That he's calling me anything at all is something else."

"Well, it's 'cause we love you," Clint said in a perfectly matter-of-fact tone.

"And I love the two of you right back," she said, matching his tone.

Clint simply beamed up at her as they made their way toward the trailers — where, unsurprisingly, Jacques had already found Barney and was grilling him on how much he'd been practicing, how often, that kind of thing.

"Don't mind us," K said as she leaned against the railing. "Just came to watch."

"See the terms of the agreement through, you mean," he said. "I'll want to see how much work I have to do."

"Oh, absolutely," she replied cheerfully. "Though maybe you should get a cup of coffee first. Or some chocolate. You seem a little stressed out."

Jacques sneered her way before he turned to Barney. "Go set up the targets," he said, and once Barney had headed off to do that, he tipped his head toward K. "I see you're back to brunette."

"I didn't get much of a positive response to the blonde," she said easily. "I guess it didn't suit me."

"Even if we matched," Clint whispered, which got a smirk out of K.

Jacques shook his head at the two of them, but it was clear he had no interest in conversation as he simply made his way to where Barney was setting things up so that Jacques could put him through his paces — running more or less the same gauntlet that he'd put K through.

But when Barney was able to rise to every new target Jacques put in front of him…

Jacques let out a little noise from the back of his throat as he turned K's way. "Good," he said shortly. "I hate to rehash training I've already done."

"Oh, but that's not all," K said, kicking herself off of the railing. "He can do that now with pretty much any knife you hand him, too. They don't have to be throwing knives. He was working steak knives, k-bars and a bowie."

"Clint's pocketknife," Barney said helpfully.

K pointed his way with a nod. "That too."

Jacques raised both eyebrows before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he rested his hand on Barney's shoulder. "Well then. We have an excellent foundation to build on. That's the masses entertained…" He squeezed Barney's shoulder and leaned forward. "Now, you said that you wanted to learn the art of the sword."

Barney's face lit up as he nodded quickly. "Yes, please!"

"Excellent." Jacques straightened up and then tipped his head K's way. "I suppose I'll see you again."

"Count on it," she replied. "Might even have to get around to that drink."

"And I'll look for… a redhead, perhaps?" he said. "You seem to change so much."

She couldn't help but smirk at that. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see, but I'll take it into consideration. I don't even know myself." She tipped her head and started to walk backward to Clint. "Break a leg, boys."

"Thanks, K!" Barney called out to her.

"Love you, kid!" she called out over her shoulder. "See you opening night."

Clint couldn't help but giggle as the two of them headed back to where they'd left Sicem. "Didja see his face? You made him blush."

"Oops," she said, covering her mouth. "He needed to know."

"Yeah, it's important," Clint agreed before he tugged on her hand to get her to crouch down so he could give her a hug. "Just so's you know… I love you too."

"And I love you, little man," she said. "But we have a week to kill waiting for them to work the kinks out. So … let's find somewhere to settle in."

"Are we gonna go camping again?"

"Not this early," she said. "We'll have to head back north and close up the cottage right. It could still freeze hard for another couple months up there."

"Oooh, yeah. That's true," Clint said, nodding along. "And I like it up there. We shouldn't let it get messed up. I like having a home to go home to!"

K smirked at that and couldn't help but ruffle his hair before they headed off together to go close up the cottage for the winter. They'd let Barney get in his rehearsal time with the circus before the first big performance — and, of course, they would be there to cheer him on.

* * *

As expected, the first performance of the season was as amazing as they could have asked for. The strongman's daughter had spent some time over the winter break with a few of the acrobats and ended up as part of the act, getting tossed and doing somersaults between one acrobat and the next. And Barney looked amazing, showing off the knife-throwing that he had been practicing as he and Jacques tag-teamed a design in the center ring…

Clint was thrilled, because Barney had never grinned so wide before as when he was taking his bow and the crowd cheered him on. And, he thought, he had never seen Barney look quite so red as when he had been watching the strong man's daughter do her acrobatics.

Circus life definitely suited Barney, and Clint was glad to see it.

After the show was over, K and Clint made it a point to find Barney so that Clint could gush to him about how amazing he was — and Barney looked pleased with himself the whole time. Though it was the ringmaster who found K and pulled her aside with a smirk.

"You're _sure_ you don't want to join up? That kid is better than I've seen anyone improve in that amount of time."

"What would you have me do?" she asked, arching one eyebrow. "I said before I'm not much when it comes to performance."

"If you're half as good as the kid is, you two could do a great double act," the ringmaster said. "Think about it."

She had to chuckle at that as she shook her head. "I'm sure Barney would rather keep his current teacher. I don't do foils and rapiers."

"Shame," he said, shaking his head. "You clearly know how to bring out the best in him. But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us," he laughed.

"You do have the new schedule for me, don't you?" she asked, still smiling.

"For our best customer?" he chuckled, pulling a paper from his coat pocket to hand to her. "I've even included stops we haven't finalized, marked with a star. Just in case the kid needs to see his aunt."He flashed her a dazzling smile that she couldn't help returning — glad to hear that there was someone that Barney trusted to tell that he was coming to call K his aunt.

"Oh, see, I'll have to call to make sure those are on then. Those would be the best to surprise them _both_ on," K said.

He laughed outright. "I like the way you think, K."

"Safe travels," she said. "I hope it's a great season for your group — and we'll see you before you know it."

The ringmaster smiled and waved her off. "Take care of the kid. I'll watch out for mine."

"I appreciate it," she replied.

As the ringmaster headed off, Clint caught up to K, grinning up at her with plenty of enthusiasm and a bounce to his step. "Barney's gonna teach me how to use swords next winter," he said. "He'll be _real_ good by then!"

"That's perfect," she said, smirking crookedly at him. "I"ve got the new schedule — straight from the ringmaster, so we know where they'll be all summer."

"And what about us?" Clint asked, looking excited at the prospect of a whole new summer set out ahead of them. "What're we gonna do all summer?"

"Well," she said, tipping her head. "Where have you wanted to visit across this big country of ours?"

Clint took a deep breath and held it. "I dunno," he said slowly. "I never really got to see much outside'a Iowa? So…"

"So … if you don't have a direction, I might have a few thoughts," K said. "Maybe a few of the better national parks; they're always good to camp in. And a nice city or two …"

"Can we see the ocean?" he asked. "Is it bigger than the lake by your cottage? Because that went on _forever_."

"It's a lot bigger, but it looks about the same from the shore," K told him.

He thought about it for a moment before he shrugged. "Okay. Well… maybe we can see a beach sometime… and maybe someplace like New York City?"

"I know of a sugar sand beach in the keys that would be perfect," she said. "New York would be good, but I've been thinking about hitting New Orleans for a while now …"

"Those both sound good," Clint said. "We can do them all, right? I mean, we got lots and lots of summers that we can run around and see everything!"

"Oh yeah, we can get a lot done — and we have all the time in the world, as far as I'm concerned."

"Even when I grow up?" Clint asked, his eyes wide.

"If you still want to travel with me, I don't see why not, but I think you'll have your own adventures by then."

"Maybe," Clint said. "I dunno. I'm not … I don't really have like… a _thing_ like Barney does…" he said, scrunching up his nose as he considered it.

"Not yet, you mean," K replied.

"I'll figure it out," Clint said thoughtfully before he glanced up at K. "You'll help, right? I'm not big enough to know all those things."

"I'll do whatever it is you need me to do to help you out," K said. "Even if you start something and change your mind. I'll help."

Clint smiled and then darted over to wrap his arms around her in a hug. "How come you're so nice, huh? I got real lucky that you found me."

"I'm just trying to treat you like I wanted to be treated as a kid," she said softly. "It's the right thing to do, isn't it?"

Clint nodded seriously. "Uh-huh. You should always be nice to people."

"Not _always_ ," she drawled out. "Not when they're asking you to treat them the way they treat you."

"Well… yeah, that's true," Clint said, looking thoughtful. "You don't gotta be nice to _bad guys_. That's different."

She ruffled his hair. "Wanna go give your brother a hug before we head out? Because I do."

"Are you gonna mess up his hair too?" he asked, trying to push his hair back down again.

"If I can get away with it, you bet your boots I will."

Clint giggled at that before he seized her hand and dashed off, almost dragging her along behind him — with K playing along just to get him to laugh — as he headed right for Barney's trailer. It looked like Barney was just cooling down from the performance when Clint tackled him.

"You looked good out there, kiddo," K called out over the roughhouse hug.

Barney grinned over Clint's shoulder. "Thanks. I'm really glad I practiced, because I think I could do it by myself in a few years."

"Have to wait and see," K said. "But I wouldn't be surprised if you keep working as hard as you have been."

Barney grinned as he finally managed to get Clint off of him and climbed to his feet. "I hope so. I've never gotten to do more than assisting and… and that was _amazing_ ," he said.

"Then all the hard work is paying off," she said with a smirk. "Good. We're going to have to get rolling ... but we could grab a bite with you if have time before we go. If not ... well…." She held her arm out and waved for him to take a step closer.

Barney considered her for a moment before he nodded to himself and stepped into the hug. "I gotta help with cleanup," he said. "But thanks."

"I figured as much, but I had to offer," she replied quietly as she gave him a solid bear hug. "We'll see you soon, alright?"

"Good," Barney said, grinning quietly.

"Love you, kiddo. Throw straight," she said only loud enough for him to hear before she kissed the side of his head and pointedly jacked up his hair. "So cute."

Clint started giggling madly as Barney hurriedly smooshed his hair back down. "Do you gotta do that?" he grumbled.

"When was the last time I did it?" K asked, smiling at him broadly. "I don't make a habit out of it."

"You do it to Clint all the time," he argued.

"Yeah, but how often do i do it to _you_?"

Barney let out a breath as he thought about it, then smirked lightly. "Okay," he said before he gave her a quick hug in return. "See you around, okay? Maybe by the end of the season, I'll get to do a little swordfighting with Jacques, huh? Maybe even in the ring!"

"I'll be looking forward to it," she said before stepping back so Clint could tackle his brother again.

"We'll be back real soon, okay?" Clint said. "And we'll be cheering you on, and I'll have lots of stories to tell you!"

Barney grinned and nodded. "And I'll show you some swords stuff, okay?"

"Yes, please," Clint said, hugging Barney a little tighter before he finally stepped back and rubbed a fist over his nose. "See you later, Barney."

"Hey, you'll be so busy having adventures with your mom you won't even notice I'm gone."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yep. And I wanna know all about it, okay?"

Clint nodded and hugged Barney one more time before he finally took a step back and nodded. "You gotta be the best weapons master ever, okay?"

"Obviously," Barney laughed before he shoved Clint in the shoulder and waved to both of them as he headed back to finish cleaning up.


	16. Mr Barton Goes to Washington

**Notes: I've been referring to the ringmaster as 'the ringmaster' because that's how K and Clint know him. He does have a name, and no, he's not part of the Circus of Crime. He's not a named character in the comics; I decided in this universe that Maynard can suck it and that the circus gets an actual leader, yay!**

* * *

 **Chapter 15: Mr. Barton Goes to Washington**

* * *

Clint and K decided to head east for their countrywide tour, so that they could stop at a few beaches, heading south and then back west to New Orleans. But that also meant that they were close enough that Clint asked if they could go see DC — because he wanted to see the King Tut Exhibit.

"I heard about it when we were at the archery tournament and all the kids wanted to go see it," he told her excitedly.

"You're not worried about the curse of the mummy or anything, are you?" she had to tease.

Clint shrugged and shook his head. "Nope. I got you!"

"Well, let's hope that's enough not to raise the wrath of the thirteen-year-old king or whatever he was."

Clint couldn't help but giggle at that. "I bet he's not even bigger'n Barney," he whispered.

"The pictures of the sarcophagus were beautiful," she said, nodding. "Yeah. That sounds like fun."

Clint beamed up at her. "Great!" he said, skipping off to the car to go climb in, already excitedly telling Sicem all about King Tut now that they were going.

So it was really no surprise that by the time they arrived, Clint was over the moon. K was redheaded this time, her hair pulled back in a long ponytail and a visor on that made her look like a lot of the other tourists coming to the area, which Clint thought was great, because they blended in well

"It's been … oh, forever since I tried red hair, I'll have you know," K told him quietly. "I feel like Barney should have a picture."

"We can buy a picture at the museum, right?" Clint said. "Then he can see the cool museum stuff too!"

"Probably," she replied. "I'm sure we'll find somewhere."

Clint grinned at that, practically pulling on her hand the whole time as he dragged her toward the line. He wasn't the only excited kid, either — and K could see plenty of other little boys and girls dragging parents toward the King Tut exhibit. College and high school students were also crowding that way; it was a huge attraction.

When they did finally manage to make it to the exhibit, through all of the waiting in lines and everything else, Clint looked totally awed, getting as close as he was allowed to stare at everything he could see, mouthing out a little 'wow' every once in a while as he drank it in.

"Makes you wanna take up tomb raiding like Indiana Jones, doesn't it?" K said over his shoulder.

Clint nodded, his eyes wide. "Maybe I could do that," he said. "I could fight bad guys and put stuff in museums, right?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," she said. "But he was supposed to be an archaeologist. And that sounds like college. Guess we better get cracking on you, ."

Clint looked down for a moment and shuffled his feet. "I dunno… I'm still not very good at reading…" he said quietly. "That's a _lot_ of school."

"You still have _plenty_ of time to decide that," she said, jostling him lightly.

"Yeah, but I'm not very smart," Clint told her in a whisper. "So I dunno if I _can_."

"You can do anything you want to do."

Clint looked up at her with his nose scrunched up and then shook his head at her. "Okay, if you say so."

"I do," she said, nodding sharply. "If you want to do it, then I have no doubt you can."

"Even though I can't read real well?" he asked, gesturing to the museum exhibits' plaques. "Those words look long, and they're _hard_ to sound out. And I'd need to know a _lot_ of 'em."

"That's only because you haven't had practice," K said. "No one expects a kid your age to know how to say those monstrosities."

"I like that," he giggled. "Big, scary monster words. Rawr." For effect, he even pulled his best 'scary' face.

"Exactly that. Right there."

Clint grinned at that before he went back to pouring over the exhibits, even getting totally engrossed in some of the stuff they had there that wasn't purely for the King Tut exhibit. It helped that the Medieval section had a few pieces on archery, too — and he of course forgot entirely about being Indiana Jones when he remembered he wanted to be Robin Hood.

By the time they got out of the museum, Clint was _skipping_. He'd loved the Air and Space part of the museum, he'd loved the historical stuff and the fact that they could see the Washington monument… all of it.

He was also worn out from all the walking around, too, so they found a good bench with a view of said monument to sit down and eat the hot dogs they'd bought, with Clint half sprawled out across most of the bench and still babbling about everything that they'd seen.

"And — and maybe I could be an astronaut! I bet I could go to the moon and be the first person to shoot a bow and arrow on the moon. Or maybe I could go underwater and discover, like, Atlantis or something or — or maybe I could invent a time machine…"

She smiled to herself and sat back, listening to his more and more animated ideas — each of them fantastic and wonderful. "See? Look at all the great ideas already."

"There's so _much_!" Clint said, looking up at K with wide eyes. "How'm I gonna pick? I wanna do all of 'em! I gotta live _forever_ so I can!"

"Maybe you'll figure out how to do that first," she suggested.

Clint nodded. "Okay, I'll do that, but it sounds like science or maybe magic and I dunno if I know how to do magic," he told her seriously.

She put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him over a little bit. "You worry too much about what you don't know how to do."

Clint let out a little sigh. "There's a lot," he said. "And I'm not very smart, so it'll take me a long time to learn it all," he added shyly. "I dunno if I can."

"You, my darling, undercut yourself all the time. You're a lot smarter than you like to admit."

Clint looked up at her with one eye closed. "You're just bein' nice, and you don't gotta do that, you know. I _already_ like you," he told her.

"I'm not being nice; I'm telling you the truth," she insisted.

Clint watched her for a long moment, but when it was clear that she wasn't lying or teasing, he raised both eyebrows and let out a little 'huh' before he put his head on her arm as he stretched out. "You're pretty awesome, Mom," he told her.

"So are you," she replied, smirking at him still as they looked out over the crowded grass at the monument. She had turned her face into the breeze and pulled her sunglasses down when the wind died out and a familiar voice drifted over to them on the breeze that had K positively frozen for a moment.

All of her muscles tensed up as she tipped her head slightly and then snapped her focus in the direction that the voice was coming from. "Come on, we gotta go," she said quietly — but in a hurried tone — as she got to her feet and turned her back to the direction the voice was coming from.

Clint's eyes went wide as he scrambled to his feet. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Tell you later," she said as she put her arm around his shoulders and guided him through the quickest route out. "Just walk normally if you can. Laugh like you have been. Tell me some jokes, okay?"

Clint still looked wide-eyed, but he nodded and bit his lip as he tried to come up with something. "Okay. Ummm… what's black and white and red all over?"

"Um … newspaper," she said. "What do you call a fake noodle?"

"I dunno, what?"

"An impasta," she said, smirking his way as they cut down a different path.

Clint giggled at that. "That's a good one," he said. "Ummm… how about… haunted French pancakes…. They give me the crepes," he said, giving her a troublemaking grin.

"Oh, I like that one," she said with a little laugh. "Alright. How do you shoot a killer bee?"

"With a killer bebe gun?" he offered.

"Got it in one," she said, smiling as they finally got to the jeep. "How about ice cream before dinner?"

"I like that idea," Clint said with a smile. "I always like dessert first!"

She nodded at that, and before Clint had the seatbelt buckled, she pulled out and slipped into traffic.

Clint held his breath as he looked out the window, and when they had been driving for a little while, he turned back to K. "You got scared," he said softly.

"I heard a voice that I wasn't expecting to hear," she admitted. "One of the bad guys in charge."

Clint's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced back over his shoulder toward the monument. "Is he gonna follow us?" he breathed out.

"I don't think he saw me, and I kept my back to the direction he was coming from, so I think we're probably fine. I just needed to get out of there. Sorry. I know you were enjoying DC."

"It's okay," he promised. "I just want you to be okay."

"Oh, I'm fine. That was just a little too close for my comfort," she said with a little smile. "I didn't know for sure that they were in DC. I thought they were still centered near Toronto."

"Maybe they were visiting King Tut too?" Clint offered.

"I doubt that very highly," she replied. "It was a big division shared between Canada and the US. Makes sense that their HQ would be in DC."

"I thought Canadians were real nice," Clint said, his eyes wide. "My dad said they're pansies."

"Most of them are real nice — these are not." She tipped her head. "But in my experience ... they're not pansies."

Clint frowned at that and looked obviously nervous as he glanced over his shoulder again. "And they're gone now?"

"He never followed us," she said.

Clint nodded slowly and sat back down a little better in his seat. "That was really scary," he whispered. "You never get scared, Mom."

"I try not to," she said. "But some people? Are just … bad."

"Well, they're never gonna get you, okay?" Clint said, getting some of his confidence back as he drew himself up. "Never ever. I'll hit 'em all if I gotta, okay?"

"I'd rather you just kept far, far away from them," K told him seriously.

"Okay," Clint said. He was quiet for a long moment, with Sicem resting his head on Clint's shoulder and whining at him trying to cheer him up. "Can we get ice cream anyway?"

"Oh, absolutely." she said. "I think a little sugar is in order."

"Yeah. You should always have ice cream when you get away from bad guys — or beat 'em up — or whatever," Clint said. "That's a new rule, I've decided."

"Then we'll have to enforce it," K agreed with a laugh.

Clint smiled up at her. "You got good jokes, Mom," he said. "That was kinda fun. We should do that more than just when we got bad guys chasing us."

"We'll hit all the good ones. Have to invest in some Laffy Taffy just for the jokes."

"And some popsicles. I like the jokes on the stick," Clint said, nodding. "That's real good in the summer when it's hot, too."

"Oh yeah. For sure," she agreed. "Best jokes that way"

"And Barney told me a few that the clowns know," Clint said.

"Yeah? Why are frogs so happy?" K asked, bumping his shoulder.

"Umm… I dunno, why?"

"They eat whatever bugs them."

Clint giggled. "I like that one. What about… how many cockroaches does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"

K was smiling already at him. "I don't think that one has an answer."

Clint grinned. "Nobody knows — 'cause they run away as soon as the light turns on!"

She chuckled at that. "I love it. One more … Why did the banana go to the doctor?"

Clint scrunched his nose up. "Did… did he have a _splitting_ headache?" he offered.

"Oooh, no but that's a great answer. He wasn't peeling well."

Clint laughed out loud. "I like that one too!" He leaned forward. "We should tell these to Barney so he can know funny things for the clowns too."

"Oh yeah; we'll have him loaded up with jokes over the winter," she said before she found an ice cream parlor. "Feel like trying out a Boston soda before we go to Boston?"

"Is it yummy?"

"I am partial to them," she said, nodding.

"Okay, well, then… yeah," he said, grinning at her. "I wanna try that."

When they walked into the place, she gestured for Clint to pick a table. "We'll bring a baby cone to Sicem when we go," she promised.

"That's a good idea," he agreed, in a much better mood now that there was ice cream and that they were further away from where the bad guy had been. And once he had the Boston soda in front of him as well? All of the earlier terror was forgotten entirely, and he was back to telling K all about how much he'd liked the museum.


	17. Goodbye, Jacques

**Notes: This is the last chapter of the first part of this universe, but you can bet I'll be back tomorrow with more! Keep an eye out ;)**

 **CC, I'm with you - I adore the fact that K won't let these boys talk badly about themselves. She is SO good for them, not just keeping them from being negative but also aiding and abetting the Barton proclivities for total nonsense ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter 17: Goodbye, Jacques**

* * *

Even though the plan had been to go south and see some of the beaches and the sights, K decided that, after the scare in DC, they would go to one of the circus showings so that Clint could see his brother — sure that it would be a good reminder that his family wasn't going anywhere.

And since there was one in Tennessee that weekend anyway, it wasn't too far off their intended path.

To K's relief, Clint definitely seemed to perk up once he saw the big tent, and the two of them started to wander through the circus setup.

"You want to surprise him before or after this time?" K asked, bumping him lightly.

"After," he said with a little nod. "Then I can tell him how good his show was!"

"Wonderful," she said. "How about cotton candy this time around then?"

"Yes please," he said. "We can get the blue stuff!" He pointed beyond her to where the vendor was spinning the cotton candy for the kids to see how it was done.

Of course, she got him one — and he was tickled when the man making them managed not only blue but some purple for him too, layered on top of it. "Still don't want to eat purple, or is this purple okay?"

Clint grinned at her and took a big bite of the cotton candy. "This purple's okay. It's not purple on purpose, and I really just don't like _grape_ stuff," he said with a shrug.

"Fair enough," she said before she snatched a little tuft of his cotton candy.

"You're a thief," he teased her.

"Yeah, I am. But a lousy one," she said. "Obviously. Since you caught me."

"Yeah, you're not supposed to get caught," he laughed as he led the way through the carnival games, taking a moment to go to the baseball toss because he wanted to win another prize.

Which meant that now, K had a little yellow bear in addition to her purple unicorn — because, as Clint said, "You said you liked yellow, and that's the only super yellow thing here."

"He's perfect," she said, sure to hold onto the bear with one arm. "You'll have to name him."

"Okay… ummm… his name is … Blondie," Clint said, one eye shut. "Cuz he's blonde."

"See? Perfect," K laughed.

"We gotta name the unicorn too," he said. "But that one's purple and a horse, so I bet you're better at names."

"Oh. Well... I guess that one could be …. Esteban."

Clint giggled. "I like that," he agreed.

The two of them hadn't gotten quite to the big tent, though, before K stopped in her tracks as a sharp pain hit her leg, and she looked down to see the hilt of a throwing knife there. She put her hand over it quickly and locked her jaw as she tried to see where she could duck to the side where all the blood that was going to follow pulling it out could be hidden.

But before she could do that, she spotted Jacques, who was looking incredibly smug as he lifted his chin her way. "I know what you are," he said low. "And I know you're running."

"What do you want?" she said with the faintest bit of a growl lacing her tone.

"After the show," he said, giving her a smile filled with triumph, "we'll discuss exactly how you can remain so anonymous." With that, he tipped his head her way and slipped back toward the tent, leaving K to deal with the knife still in her leg and a very wide-eyed Clint — who had read Jacques' lips the whole time.

"Can you steal me a long shirt so I can clean this up quickly?" K said, tipping her head toward the menagerie, where there were several shirts hanging on cages where the men working there had left them. "At least I'm not in jeans today."

Clint nodded silently and rushed over to snag one of the shirts, his face pale as he watched her. "Mom…"

"Slimy little jerk hit an artery, too," she said — the growl a little more prominent now as she took the shirt and wrapped it around the knife before she pulled it out and held the shirt there. With her free hand, she cleaned off the blade and swore at it. "Just give me a little second here, Clint. It's fine."

"Mom… you're growling," he said, still looking pale.

She blinked a few times and looked his way before he swallowed hard and took a few deep breaths — dropping the growl. "Sorry."

"I didn't know you did that," he said.

"I try not to," she said. "I snarl too, but that's … only when things are really rough."

Clint was still staring at K before he swallowed. "He's gonna get you in trouble," he whispered, sitting down on a nearby box.

"No he's not," K said, shaking her head slowly.

"He is. That's what he said," Clint said, his tone rising in pitch just a bit as he started to panic.

"Clint, please trust me," she said. "He's not going to do anything."

"What's he gonna… he's gonna want…" Clint bit his lip. "I don't like this."

"He started something now that he can't possibly finish," K said. "Because now I am pissed off. And that's not going to end well for him."

Clint watched K quietly. "But he said he knew you were running away and… and you _are_ scared of the bad guys."

"But I'm not scared of _him_ ," K replied, her eyes flashing.

"I am," Clint said, glancing down to see that K wasn't bleeding anymore and biting his lip. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'm fine," she promised. "That wasn't anything. I mean …" She gestured to the hem of her skirt. "He wrecked the hem, but that'll come out with cold water."

"It's a lot of blood…"

"It's really not," she argued. "Come on; let's see the show. Go ahead and look nervous if you want. I don't know how to do that for him."

"Good, because I don't think I can stop," he said, waiting for K to get to her feet before he all but attached to her arm.

She took a moment to wrap him up in a hug. "I promise. We'll be fine."

Clint nodded but didn't say anything, simply holding onto her a bit more as they went to the big top. He was half snuggled into her for most of the show, not letting her go for anything, though he only seemed to get more anxious when Jacques' section of the show started and there was no sign of Barney, either.

He picked his head up away from K when Jacques' show started up — surprised by the sensation of the growl that he could feel but not hear. "That… that's like when I sleep with my head on Sicem's tummy and he growls in his sleep," he said.

"I thought I was a little lower," K said without missing a beat. "Does it bother you?"

"I don't think so," Clint said. "I can't hear it; I can just feel it? It's … I dunno how to explain it. Maybe you can hear it and I can't."

"Well, I can. But unless I get louder, no one else can, and frankly, they'd probably think it was one of the lions."

Clint nodded. "I probably wouldn't hear it unless you were snarling like you said," he whispered.

She turned and gave him a little smile. "When I'm really mad — and I get loud — you can feel it across the room before you hear it. So I'm told."

"I hope you never get that mad," Clint said, laying his head back down so he could snuggle her a little tighter.

"Wanna see something funny?" K said. "Watch the lions when they come out for a pass at the very end."

Clint glanced up at her for a moment before he nodded and put his head back down — though he was watching a little more carefully now, and when he noticed that the lions were shirking away from where he and K were in the stands, he couldn't help but smile.

 _You are pretty scary,_ he signed to her under the noise of the crowd applauding.

 _Sorry_ , she signed back.

He shook his head. _You scare bad people,_ he tried to explain. _That's good._

She turned her head to give him a little kiss, then tipped her head when the tigers came by, smiling a little wider when they ducked their heads a little and almost bowled over their handlers moving toward the center. _Funny to me,_ she signed out.

Clint smiled at her and tucked into her a little better, though when the show was over, K could tell that he was getting nervous again as the crowd started to file out. His breathing was faster, and so was his heart rate.

Clint really, _really_ didn't want to lose K. Not after finally finding a family again.

They hadn't gotten too far from the tent before Jacques caught up to them, smirking and looking pleased with himself as he fell into step with them. "This is probably your best disguise yet. Very nice," he said, nodding approvingly at her heels and dress.

"The hem is utterly ruined," she said dryly.

"Shame," he said before he took her arm. "Now then, shall we find somewhere to talk?"

"Where's Barney?" she asked, though she hadn't pulled back yet.

"In his trailer," Jacques said dismissively.

"Why wasn't he performing tonight?"

Jacques turned slightly her way and gave her a little smirk. "Not a lack of skill, certainly. But you see, he was very stubborn about the secrets you've been hiding."

At that, though, she did come to a stop and stared up at him — doing everything she could to keep from simply killing him on the spot. "What did you do?"

"Nothing permanent," Jacques said. He tipped his head toward the trailers. "Nothing that would impair his performance in the long run," he added. "But we can leave the boys to themselves while we discuss a new arrangement, _oui_?"

She still hadn't moved from where she had stopped. " _Oui_ ," she replied, nodding slightly. K turned toward Clint. "Please make sure Barney is actually alright. I'll catch up, I'm sure."

Clint was nodding, though he hadn't moved either. "I can stay…" he said quietly.

"It's better if you don't," K told him. "Go to your brother. Please."

 _But he might hurt you,_ Clint signed, glancing between the two adults with wide eyes.

K met his gaze and smirked before she simply shook her head. _Don't worry._

Clint watched her for a longer moment before he finally swallowed and nodded before he dashed off toward the trailers, leaving K alone with Jacques as he led the way toward a more private location.

"I knew there was something off about you," Jacques said as they walked. "But even suspicions have their advantages." He smiled as they approached the trailers and turned toward her. "Now then," he said. "This arrangement we have — I think it's time to amend it. Keep the boys together, here. And if you ask nicely, I'm sure we can find something for you to do as well."

"Like what?" she asked, still not showing a bit of fear or panic.

"I could use a lovely assistant," he said without taking his hand off her. "The boys I have other plans for, but you ... you would bring crowd interest."

"That wouldn't do well for keeping anonymous," K pointed out.

"You look nothing like yourself," he said, waving a hand. "You would use a stage name, and you know as well as I that I wouldn't hit you during the show. Your secrets stay secret, and I have two apprentices instead of one."

"I'm sure you have plenty of regulars that would be better stand-ins," she said. "I'm not a performer."

"Then I suppose you'll simply have to stop in on occasion and see the boys perform," he said with a shrug. "It makes no difference to me if you don't want to stay."

"So that's what you're after? Both boys and for me to let you throw at me?"

"Both boys and for you to leave me to my own devices," Jacques corrected. "I'm tired of your rules and your interference. And I know — I have _seen_ what they're both capable of, when they play together and practice together. You've trained them both."

"Yes. Well. And in less time than you had Barney," she shot back before she took a step toward him. "I don't know what you _think_ you saw, but you're wrong about me."

"No?" Jacques smirked. "I know that there is no knife in your leg, no stitches. That was an artery, my dear. You should be dead."

"What does that add up to in your little mind, Jacques?"

"A mutant," he said with a gleam in his eyes. "And one on the run."

"I'm not sure if you noticed," she said, letting her voice drop down to a low tone. "There aren't many out-in-the-open mutants these days."

"Which is precisely why you need to stay hidden," he said. "And why you'll listen to my demands."

She shook her head at that. "No, see ... maybe … if all I did was heal … I'd consider that. But you don't know the half of it, and you have made a terrible error in trying to threaten me when I was being so _nice_ to you." The last half of her sentence let the growl slip loose again, and her lip curled around the last bit.

Jacques couldn't help but take an instinctive step back at the growl before he sneered at her. "You don't get to set the terms here, woman," he said, a blade slipping between his fingers as he spoke.

She tipped her head slightly. "You want a knife fight?" K asked, and as she said it, the expression on her face clearly betrayed her absolute amusement just before she popped the claws on both hands. "Okay. Let's go." She took the first few steps toward him — the smile growing the closer she got.

Jacques stared at her claws. "The little — where did you get those?"

"Want a better look?" she asked, and then she _did_ let out a little snarl when she darted forward and knocked him off his feet before he could raise his arm. The first set of claws sank into his strong arm at the ball and socket joint as she pinned him to the ground. "Still want to try to set rules on me?"

Jacques was gasping under her grasp, his eyes wide as he clearly realized his mistake. She retracted the claws in her free hand and turned her hand over so he could see the back of it. "You're not going to bother anyone anymore." She set her fist over his heart and barely gave him a moment to register it before she sent one single claw through the center of his chest and then stepped back, letting him deal with what little time he had left.

The clean up was easy enough, and she stood over him with a relaxed expression on her face as she wiped the little bit of blood off her hands and waited for him to die. When it was finally over, she tutted to herself and then turned toward the trailer Barney and Clint were supposed to be in, sure to toss the handkerchief she'd used to clean up into a burning barrel fire on her way.

"Knock knock, boys," K said, smirking at them as she opened the door. "What happened?"

Before she'd even gotten through the door, Clint had rushed over to her and all but attached to her, throwing his arms around her and hugging her tightly, though Barney was still lying on the little bed he had in his bare trailer and looking down to keep from meeting her gaze. He was feeling obviously guilty, despite the fact that if the way he was wincing and the fact that his cheek was still swollen were any indication, it clearly hadn't been his idea to tell Jacques anything.

"Barney, are you okay?" she asked, heading toward him as soon as Clint had let up his hug a little bit, her tone gentle and concerned at the same time.

Barney bit his lip and nodded quietly. "I'm really sorry," he said.

She shook her head at that and offered him her hand. "You have nothing to be apologizing for."

"I got you in trouble," he said, still without looking up.

"No, you didn't," she said, frowning slightly. "Jacques tried to change the terms of the deal, and … though the terms have changed, Jacques isn't a part of it anymore."

"What do you mean?" Clint asked, still hovering around K like he couldn't stand being too far away from her.

"I mean he said he wanted to keep both of you and I wouldn't be able to have a say at all on how you were treated," K told him. "He also wanted me to join the show so he could throw knives at me with the flimsy promise that he wouldn't hit me _during_ the show. Crappy deal." She let out a little sigh. "He hurt your brother, and he wanted to work you over too — call you his apprentices — and he was holding my freedom and well-being over my head. So …" She raised an eyebrow. "He's not bothering anyone anymore."

Barney finally looked up at that, his eyes almost as wide as Clint's. "Did you kill him?" he asked in a whisper.

"I did," K admitted. "But not until he pulled a knife on me."

Both of the Barton boys had the same expressions on, with slightly opened mouths and eyebrows high on their heads, before Barney leaned over and pulled K into a quick hug. "You didn't haveta," he said, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Yes, actually, I did," she replied, letting her shoulders relax a little. "He hurt you to get to me, and he intended to do _whatever he wanted_ to all three of us given half the chance." She tipped her chin up and looked down her nose at him in what she hoped was a bracing expression. "You can do better than him."

Barney was quiet for a long moment before he let out a breath. "What'm I gonna do now?" he asked.

She let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "I'll talk to the ringmaster. He'd asked me to step in … but I'm sure he's got people lined up to take the spot. I'd rather not parade around in a sequin bathing suit if I can help it."

Barney let out a breath of a laugh at that, and then snorted when Clint put in, "But you could if you wanted because you dress up all the time, right, Mom?"

"I could," she agreed. "But I'd have to come up with a better way to hide who I am than just dying my hair."

"I do like the red," Barney smiled.

"Yeah, it's your turn to match," Clint put in, which had Barney laughing outright.

"Yeah. Yeah, I like that," Barney said, finally smiling and looking a bit more relaxed now.

K nodded at that and gave Barney a much better, longer hug. "I'm sorry he hurt you. And I'm sorry you thought you were responsible for him being an ass. But … I need to go talk to your ringmaster."

Barney nodded lightly. "I'll watch out for Clint," he promised quietly.

She smiled lightly at that. "He can tell you about what was wrong with the lions while I'm gone." She gave him a quick kiss on the side of his head and then did the same to Clint before she got to her feet and headed out to find the ringmaster.

At that, Clint grinned and settled himself easily beside Barney, and K could hear Clint already telling him all about how K could growl and how it had scared the animals before she had fully closed the door behind her on her way out.

Of course, the ringmaster wasn't too hard to find — by that time of night, he was usually by his trailer and starting to wind down — so she simply headed right for him. "I don't suppose we could talk privately?"

The ringmaster startled, then peered a little closer. "K?" he said at last.

She gestured openly at herself. "The one and only."

He shook his head with a little smile. "You always look different, don't you?"

"It was Clint's idea — the red. And it's warm out, so …"

He smiled at that and nodded, motioning for her to follow him inside. "What can I do for you?"

"I figured I should give you a heads up," she said. "If you have someone waiting in the wings to take over for your weapons master — you should call him. And if you don't ... then I'll do what I can to fill the gap while you get someone."

"I had someone in mind," the ringmaster admitted. "What happened?"

"A few things,"K said. "For one, he worked Barney over pretty good. For another he tried a very weak angle of blackmail on me. He wanted both boys and a 'lovely assistant'."

The ringmaster frowned deeply. "I thought Barney had the flu," he said. "It's been going around."

"Barney got the crap beat out of him," she said. "He's in his trailer right now bruised and battered."

"I'll get someone to look him over," the ringmaster promised, his eyebrows high before he swore under his breath. "I swear…"

She nodded at that. "It all looks superficial, but painful."

"Well, if you've run him out, the woman I'm looking at is an old friend from another circuit. I trust her; she won't hurt him."

She tipped her head at that. "Your men will probably find Jacques. He pulled a knife on me when I turned him down. It didn't end well for him."

At that, the ringmaster straightened up. "He's… that's… that's certainly further than I expected this to go," he said, running a hand over his face as he considered it.

"I am deeply sorry for that," she said. "But he wasn't playing humanely or fairly by any stretch, and what he was threatening …"

The ringmaster nodded. "I- I'll take care of it," he said, nodding once more. "And I'll make sure Barney is seen to as well. I promise you ... if I'd known… the other kids all came down with the flu so it seemed like it was just hitting the whole group…"

She gave him a ghost of a smile, enough to show she knew he wasn't lying, though she was careful to keep from coming off as too confident. "I know you look after them. If I had any doubts, I would have found a way to talk Barney into not coming back. But … I want the kid to be happy."

"He's a great kid," he agreed. "The rest of us here like having him around — and he really is talented."

"I know he is," K replied. "Did he tell you everything he learned?"

"I'm sure he told Jacques more than he told me."

She shook her head lightly. "I had him throwing every blade I had — all different weights and balances. Everything from the nice set of throwing knives to kitchen knives, a marine k-bar, and a bowie." She couldn't help but smirk a little. "And he never told Jacques that he does just as well with hatchets, too."

The ringmaster let out a low whistle and leaned forward with a smile. "That kid is going to be the best in the business by the time he's an adult."

She nodded. "I put them in archery competitions over the winter — got them a little healthy interaction with other kids doing the same stuff. They loved it."

"Then I'll make sure Miranda adds that to the act."

She nodded. "If it's alright, I still would like to come back and check on him."

"Of course; you're family," he said with a nod. "You still have our schedule, and I'll be sure to furnish you with one every year you choose to keep doing this."

"I do," she agreed. "And thank you. I really am sorry about all the trouble, though."

He shook his head. "I should be apologizing to you. That's my weapons master that threatened your boys and blackmailed you." He paused and tipped his head to the side. "And if he threatened what I think he did… you wouldn't have been the only one endangered. Plenty of my people are mutants too, you know."

She let out a little laugh. "I don't think he was thinking about how it might impact them if a forty-foot-tall robot went wandering up."

"He never thought of anyone but himself," he said irritatedly. He let out a sigh and offered her his hand. "If you'd like, you can meet Miranda at the next show. She's a lot like you — and a mutant herself."

K smirked finally and nodded at that. "I think we will. Would it be alright if I took Barney out for some real food? No offense, of course. But the boy needs something less fried now and again."

He chuckled. "After what he's been through, I'd say he needs a night out. Go ahead."

She thanked him again and headed back to the boys, and when she closed the door behind herself, she couldn't help but smile at the pair of them. "So. You'll have a new weapons master next stop — and we are going out. You need food. And ice cream. And you have the ringmaster's blessings."

Barney stared at her. "What?"

"You always get ice cream when you get rid of bad guys," Clint told him with a sage nod. "That's the rule."

"Or brownies," K said. "That sounds better. But I'll defer to you."

"Well… if it's cold outside, then brownies. But ice cream in the summer," Clint allowed.

"Honey, I am from the north. It can be forty below and I'll go for ice cream if I feel like it," K said. "Helps it to not melt on me anyhow." She turned to Barney. "You know what he was threatening, right?"

Barney nodded, chewing on his bottom lip. "I'm real sorry," he said again.

She shook her head. "No. See ... from what I just heard, if he'd have done what he wanted to, this circus probably would have been wrecked." She took a few steps closer. "When those people are called — for a garden variety mutant — they send in a Sentinel that would scoop up whoever carried the gene. They don't target _one_ person."

Barney's eyes went wide. "But … we have lots of mutants here."

She nodded her head. "Exactly. Take them all away, and what's left?"

Clint shook his head at that as Barney stared at K. "He was real dumb," he said. "But I'm glad he's gone and he can't hurt my brother." He glanced at Barney. "We'll make sure the next one doesn't hurt you too, okay?"

"The next one is a mutant named Miranda," K said as she held Barney's gaze. "I told you the ringmaster was looking for a replacement … and he knows you're going to be the best by the time you're grown."

"Really?" Barney said, brightening considerably at the compliment.

"He was pretty pissed off that you _didn't_ have the flu, too." She shrugged. "Sorry kid, but I think he'll have a doctor in to make sure you're fine."

Barney groaned. "I hate doctors."

"Not as much as I do," she said, offering him a hand up. "Come on. Let's get away from the corndogs. I'm sure you could go for a steak or something."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Barney agreed, letting K lead him out of the trailer — with Clint not far behind with Sicem bounding around ready to play with both boys.


End file.
